MURIEL.

What, the young man you've talked to me about--next door? [_Kissing
her._] I hope you are doing well for yourself, dear.

SOPHY.

He's simply perfect! he's--! oh, how can I be such a brute, talking of
my own happiness--! [_In an altered tone._] Darling, Captain Bastling's
regiment is going to be sent off to Hong-Kong.

MURIEL.

[_After a pause--commanding herself._] When?

SOPHY.

In about a fortnight.

MURIEL.

[_Frigidly._] Is this what you had to tell me, from him?

SOPHY.

Yes, and that he must see you to-morrow, alone. I'll arrange it. Can you
manage to be here at twelve?

MURIEL.