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[To MR. POSKET.] Come on, Guv. Come on!
[_They disappear through the curtain as HARRIS turns up the lights.
Then then is a cry and the sound of a crash._
AGATHA POSKET.
They're killed!
[_MESSITER looks through the window._
MESSITER.
No, they're not; they've gone into the kitchen and the balcony with them. Look sharp, Harris.
[_HARRIS goes out quickly._
LUKYN.
[_To MESSITER._] I shall report you for this, sir.
MESSITER.
[_Taking out his note-book._] Very sorry, sir; it's my duty.
LUKYN.
Duty, sir! Coming your confounded detective tricks on ladies and gentlemen! How dare you make ladies and gentlemen suspend their breathing till they nearly have apoplexy? Do you know I'm a short-necked man, sir?
MESSITER.
I didn't want you to leave off breathing, sir. I wanted you to breathe louder. Your name and address, sir.
LUKYN.
Gur-r-r-h!
MESSITER.
Army gentleman, sir?
LUKYN.
How do you know that?
MESSITER.
Short style of speaking, sir. Army gentlemen run a bit brusquish when on in years.
LUKYN.
Oh! Alexander Lukyn--Colonel--Her Majesty's Cheshire Light Infantry, late 41st Foot, 3rd Battalion--Bengal--Retired.
MESSITER.
[_Writing._] Hotel or club, Colonel?
LUKYN.
Neither. 19A, Cork Street--lodgings.
MESSITER.
[_Writing._] Very nice part, Colonel. Thank you.
LUKYN.
Bah!
MESSITER.
Other gentleman?
VALE.
[_With languid hauteur._] Horace Edmund Cholmeley Clive Napier Vale.
Captain--Shropshire Fusiliers--Stark's Hotel, Conduit Street.
MESSITER.
[_Writing._] Retired, sir?
VALE.
No, confound you--active!
MESSITER.
Thank you, Captain. Ahem! Beg pardon. The--the ladies.
[_CHARLOTTE clings to VALE, AGATHA POSKET to LUKYN._
CHARLOTTE AND AGATHA POSKET.
No--no! No--no!
LUKYN.
[_To AGATHA POSKET._] All right--all right--trust to me! [_To MESSITER._] Well, sir?
