Denham.
Really, you sometimes say a good thing--that is, an ill-natured one.
How you hate culture! (_Enter Jane, showing in Fitzgerald._)
Jane.
Mr. Fitzgerald! (_Exit Jane._)
(_Fitzgerald saunters up to Mrs. Denham, stops suddenly, straddling
his legs, and shakes hands loosely and absently._)
Fitzgerald.
Lovely day, eh? Have you heard the news?
Denham.
We never have heard the news.
Mrs. Denham.
You are the only gossip who comes our way.
Fitzgerald.
(_good-humouredly_) Gossip, eh? Oh, you needn't think I mind being
denounced from your domestic altar, Mrs. Denham! I know you're dying
to hear the last bit of scandal.
Mrs. Denham.
Take pity on me then.
Fitzgerald.
I know this'll interest you awfully. Pottleton Smith's wife's run
away at last. Now wasn't I right? (_Looks smilingly at both for
sympathy._) I always said she would, you know.
Mrs. Denham.
Poor silly little flirt! I'm very sorry.
Fitzgerald.
(_rubbing his hands_) I'm--I'm awfully glad. It'll be the saving of
poor Smith. Though he's awfully cut up about it, of course.
Denham.
Did she run away with--any one in particular?
Fitzgerald.
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