some reason that he cannot fathom, he knows now that he will never do
that.

MRS. DOWEY. 'Kenneth,' affecting surprise, 'we have visitors!'

DOWEY. 'Your servant, ladies.'

He is no longer mud-caked and dour. A very smart figure is this Private
Dowey, and he winks engagingly at the visitors, like one who knows that
for jolly company you cannot easily beat charwomen. The pleasantries
that he and they have exchanged this week! The sauce he has given them.
The wit of Mrs. Mickleham's retorts. The badinage of Mrs. Twymley. The
neat giggles of the Haggerty Woman. There has been nothing like it since
you took the countess in to dinner.

MRS. TWYMLEY. 'We should apologise. We're not meaning to stay.'

MRS. DOWEY. 'You are very welcome. Just wait'--the ostentation of
this!--'till I get out of my astrakhan--and my muff--and my gloves--and'
(it is the bonnet's turn now) 'my Excelsior.'

At last we see her in the merino (a triumph).

MRS. MICKLEHAM. 'You've given her a glory time, Mr. Dowey.'

DOWEY. 'It's her that has given it to me, missis.'

MRS. DOWEY. 'Hey! hey! hey! hey! He just pampers me,' waggling her
fists. 'The Lord forgive us, but this being the last night, we had a
sit-down supper at a restaurant!' Vehemently: 'I swear by God that we