But it's no mortal use; the minute I put it on
I'm recognised (_plaintively_). And I gave one-and-ninepence for the
beastly thing, too!
_Young Man of the Period_ (_meeting a female acquaintance attired
in ferns, rock-work, and coloured shells, illuminated by portable
electric light_). Hul-lo! You _are_ a swell! And what are _you_
supposed to be?
_The Lady in Rock-work_. Can't you see? I'm a Fairy Grotto. Good idea,
isn't it?
_He_. Rippin'! But what the mischief have you got on your shoulder?
_She_. Oh, that's an aquarium--real goldfish. See!
[_Exhibiting them with pride._
_He_. Ain't you lettin' 'em sit up rather late? They _will_ be chippy
to-morrow--off colour, don't you know.
_She_. Will they? What ought I to do for them, then?
_He_. Do? Oh, just put a brandy-and-soda in their tank.
_Later; Supper is going on in the Boxes and Supper-room, and
the festivity has been further increased by the arrival of a
party of Low Comedians and Music-Hall Stars. The Lancers have
been danced with more abandonment, and several entirely new
and original figures._
_The Chevalier Bayard_ (_at the Refreshment Bar--to a Watteau
Shepherdess_). I say, you come along and dance with me, will you?--and
look here, if you dance well, I'll give you a drink when it's over. If
you don t dance to please me, you'll get nothing.
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