a proof to-morrow!

FOOTMAN. Mr. Gillow Waring.

LADY WALPURGE. I was so afraid you were not coming. My husband thought
you would give us the slip.

WARING. How charming your decorations are! You must give me some ideas
for my new yacht, you have such perfect taste.

MALDONADO. Walpurge! what will you take for that Reynolds? Or will you
swap it for my Velasquez?

WALPURGE. My dear Maldo, I always do my deals through--

FOOTMAN. Mr. Walter Dowdeswell.

WALPURGE. Through Dowdeswell and Dowdeswell; and you, my dear Maldo, if
you want to get rid of your Velasquez, ought to join the National Art
Collections Fund, or go and see--

FOOTMAN. Mr. Lockett Agnew. 'Er 'Ighness the Princess Swami.

_Enter the_ PRINCESS SALOME.

LADY JOURNALIST. Fancy having that woman here. She is not recognised in
any decent society, she is nothing but an adventuress; talks such bad
French, too. Have you ever seen her, Doctor Faustus?

FAUST. Yes, I have met her very often in Germany. Though the Emperor
would not receive her at first, she is much admired in Europe.

LADY JOURNALIST (_hedging_). I wonder where she gets her frocks? They
must be worth a good deal.

FAUST. From Ricketts and Shannon, if you want to know.

LADY JOURNALIST. Dear Doctor, you know everything! Let me see: Ricketts
and Shannon is that new place in Regent Street, rather like Lewis and
Allenby's, I suppose?

FAUST. Yes, only different.

IRISH PEER (_to_ FAUST). Do you think Lady Walpurge will ever get into
Society?

FAUST. Not if she gives her guests such wretched coffee.

LADY JOURNALIST. It's nothing to her tea. I've never had such bad tea.
Besides, she cannot get actors or actresses to come to her house.

LADY WALPURGE (_overhearing_). I expect _Sir Herbert and Lady Beerbohm
Tree_ here to-night, and perhaps VIOLA. (_Sensation_.)

[_Enter, hurriedly_, MR. C. T. H. HELMSLEY.] Mr. Alexander, a moment
with you! A most important telegram has just arrived.

FAUST (_reading_). 'Handed in at Greba Castle, 10.15. Reply paid. Do
not close with Stephen Phillips until you have seen my play of
_Gretchen_, same subject, five acts and twelve tableaux.--HALL CAINE.'
Where is Mr. Stephen Phillips? [STEPHEN PHILLIPS _advances_.] My dear
Phillips, I think we will put up _Harold Hodge_ instead. 'The Last of
the Anglo-Saxon Editors,' by the last Anglo-Saxon poet.

CURTAIN.

(1906.)

_To_ W. BARCLAY SQUIRE, ESQ.

SHAVIANS