[_Mournfully._] There is nothing else to nurse, dear Harry, on the West
Coast of Africa. [_Glancing at_ SOPHY.] Yes, by gad, that gal is
alluring!

QUEX.

[_Walking away._] Tssh! you're a bad companion, Chick!

[_He goes to the window and looks into the street._ FRAYNE _joins him._
SOPHY, _seizing her opportunity comes down to_ POLLITT.

SOPHY.

[_To_ POLLITT.] Valma dear, you see that man?

POLLITT.

Which of the two?

SOPHY.

The dark one. That's Lord Quex--the wickedest man in London.

POLLITT.

He looks it. [_Jealously._] Have you ever cut his nails?

SOPHY.