[_To_ POLLITT.] Phew! I hope to goodness Lord Quex won't tumble to
anything.

POLLITT.

Tumble--to what?

[QUEX _introduces_ BASTLING _to_ FRAYNE.

SOPHY.

You don't understand; it's Captain Bastling--the man Muriel is really
fond of.

POLLITT.

What, while she's engaged--?

SOPHY.

[_With clenched hands._] Yes, and she shall marry him too, my darling
shall, if I can help to bring it about.

POLLITT.

You?

SOPHY.

Bless 'em, I don't know how they'd contrive without me!