Part 32 (1/2)

PAULA.

And you call yourself my friend?

DRUMMLE.

[_Good-humouredly._] No, I don't!

PAULA.

Perhaps I'll tie them together and give them to his man in the morning.

DRUMMLE.

That won't avoid an explanation.

PAULA.

[_Recklessly._] Oh, then he must miss them----

DRUMMLE.

And trace them.

PAULA.

[_Throwing herself upon the ottoman._] I don't care!

DRUMMLE.

I know you don't; but let me send him to you now, may I?

PAULA.

Now! What do you think a woman's made of? I couldn't stand it, Cayley. I haven't slept for nights; and last night there was thunder, too! I believe I've got the horrors.

DRUMMLE.

[_Taking the little hand-mirror from the table._] You'll sleep well enough when you deliver those letters. Come, come, Mrs. Aubrey--a good night's rest! [_Holding the mirror before her face._] It's quite time.

[_She looks at herself for a moment, then s.n.a.t.c.hes the mirror from him._

PAULA.

You brute, Cayley, to show me that!

DRUMMLE.

Then--may I? Be guided by a fr--a poor old woman! May I?

PAULA.