Sold her bed to lie upon straw.
Wasn’t she a silly slut
To sell her bed and lie upon dirt?
Captain Congleton, I’m going to alter that to ‘flirt.’ It sounds better.
He. No, I’ve changed my mind about the drink. Good-night, little lady. I shall see you to-morrow?
She. Ye—es. Good-night, Guy. Don’t be angry with me.
He. Angry! You know I trust you absolutely. Good-night and—God bless you!
(Three seconds later. Alone.) Hmm! I’d give something to discover whether there’s another man at the back of all this.
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