Part 3 (1/2)
MISS DE M. I _had_ some very pretty ones; but I'm afraid they're all--oh, no, there's just _one_ left--crimson velvet and real _pa.s.s.e.m.e.nterie_. (_She produces a bag_). Too trotty for words, isn't it?
MRS. MAYCUP (_tacitly admitting its trottiness_). But then--that sort of purse shape----Could I get a small pair of folding curling-irons into it, should you think, at a pinch?
MISS DE M. You could get _anything_ into it--at a pinch. I've one myself which will hold--well, I can't tell you what it _won't_ hold!
Half-a-guinea--so _many_ thanks! (_To herself, as_ MRS. MAYCUP _carries off her_ _bag_.) What _would_ the vicar's wife say if she knew I'd sold her church collection bag for _that_! But it's all in a good cause!
(_An_ ELDERLY LADY _comes up_.) May I show you some of these----?
The ELDERLY LADY. Well, I was wondering if you had such a thing as a good warm pair of sleeping socks; because, these bitter nights, I do find I suffer so from cold in my feet.
MISS DE M. (_with effusion_). Ah, then I can _feel_ for you--so do _I_!
At least, I _used_ to before I tried--(_To herself._) Where _is_ that pair of thick woollen driving-gloves? Ah, _I_ know. (_Aloud._)--these.
I've found them _such_ a comfort!
The E. L. (_suspiciously_). They have rather a queer----And then they are divided at the ends, too.
MISS DE M. Oh, haven't you seen _those_ before? Doctors consider them so much healthier, don't you know.
The E. L. I daresay they are, my dear. But aren't the--(_with delicate embarra.s.sment_)--the separated parts rather long?
MISS DE M. Do you _think_ so? They allow so much more freedom, you see; and then, of course, they'll shrink.
The E. L. That's true, my dear. Well, I'll take a pair, as you recommend them so strongly.
MISS DE M. I'm quite _sure_ you'll never regret it!
(_To herself, as the_ E. L. _retires, charmed_.) I'd give _anything_ to see the poor old thing trying to put them on!
MISS MIMOSA TENDRILL (_to herself_). I do so _hate_ hawking this horrid old thing about! (_Forlornly, to_ MRS. ALLb.u.t.t-INNETT.) I--I beg your pardon; but _will_ you give me ten-and-sixpence for this lovely work-basket?
MRS. ALLb.u.t.t-INNETT. My good girl, let me tell you I've been pestered to buy that identical basket at every bazaar I've set foot in for the last twelve-month, and how you can have the face to ask ten-and-six for it--you must think I've more money than wit!
MISS TENDR. (_abashed_). Well--_eighteenpence_ then? (_To herself, as_ Mrs. A. I. _closes promptly_.) There, I've sold _something_, anyhow!
The HON. DIANA D'AUTENBAS (_to herself_). It's rather fun selling at a Bazaar; one can let oneself _go_ so much more! (_To the first man she meets._) I'm sure you'll buy one of my b.u.t.tonholes--now _won't_ you? If I fasten it in for you myself?
MR. CADNEY ROWSER. A b.u.t.ton'ole, eh? Think I'm not cla.s.sy enough as I am?
MISS D'AUT. I don't think _anyone_ could accuse you of not being ”_cla.s.sy_;” still a flower would just give the finis.h.i.+ng-touch.
MR. C. R. (_modestly_). Rats!--if you'll pa.s.s the reedom. But you've such a way with you that--there--'ow much.
MISS D'AUT. Only five s.h.i.+llings. Nothing to _you_!
MR. C. R. Five bob? You're a artful girl, _you_ are! ”_Fang de Seakale_,” and no error! But I'm _on_ it; it's worth the money to 'ave a flower fastened in by such fair 'ands. I won't 'owl--not even if you _do_ run a pin into me.... What? You ain't done a'ready! No _'urry_, yer know.... 'Ere, won't you come along to the refreshment-stall, and 'ave a little something at my expense. Do!
MISS D'AUT. I think you must imagine you are talking to a barmaid!
MR. C. R. (_with gallantry_). I on'y wish barmaids was 'alf as pleasant and sociable as _you_, Miss. But they're a precious stuck-up lot, _I_ can a.s.sure you!