Fitzgerald.

Well, I left her below, having some milk or something. She seemed
quite done up--excitement or something--eh?

Denham.

Where did you meet her, Fitz?

Fitzgerald.

I was going to my studio, and I met--met her running along the road
with--with a little white scared face, and no hat on her--and her
curls flying behind her--an'--an'--'pon my word, I could hardly stop
her But we met a little girl with a goat, an' we stroked the
goat--eh, stroked the goat--an' that comforted her a bit.

Mrs. Denham.

But where was she going?

Fitzgerald.

Oh, that's the cream o' the joke! I had a great piece of work to get
out of her what ailed her, an'--an'--would you believe it?--that
Undine of yours--that Undine of yours was going back to her native
element. The--the mite was looking for the Thames, to drown herself!

Mrs. Denham.