Good heavens, I'm old enough to be his mother.
Nonsense. You're only ten years older than he is, and nowadays no nice young man marries a woman younger than himself.
He's such a good fellow. I couldn't do him a nasty turn like that.
How about Montgomerie? He simply stinks of money, and he's not a bad sort.
[Surprised.] My dear boy, I hardly know him.
Well, I'm afraid it means marriage or bankruptcy.
Here's Charlie. Take him away, there's a dear. I want to talk to Paradine.
What, still here, Lady Frederick?
As large as life.
We've been taking a turn on the terrace.
[To Mereston.] And has your astute uncle been pumping you, Charlie?
Eh, what?
I don't think he got much out of me.
[Good-naturedly.] All I wanted, dear boy. There's no one so transparent as the person who thinks he's devilish deep. By the way, what's the time?
About eleven, isn't it?
Ah! How old are you, Charlie?
Twenty-two.
Then it's high time you went to bed.
Charlie's not going to bed till I tell him. Are you?
Of course not.
Has it escaped your acute intelligence, my friend, that I want to talk to Lady Frederick?
Not at all. But I have no reason to believe that Lady Frederick wants to talk to you.
Let's go and have a game of pills, Charlie.
D'you want to be left alone with the old villain?
You show no respect for my dyed hairs, young man.
I've not seen him for years, you know.
Oh, all right. I say, you're coming for a ride to-morrow, aren't you?
Certainly. But it must be in the afternoon.
I'm sorry, but Charles has arranged to motor me over to Nice in the afternoon.
[To Lady Frederick.] That'll suit me A 1. I had an engagement, but it was quite unimportant.
Then that's settled. Good-night.
Good-night.
Well?
Well?
You wear excellently, Paradine.
Thanks.
How do you manage it?
By getting up late and never going to bed early, by eating whatever I like and drinking whenever I'm thirsty, by smoking strong cigars, taking no exercise, and refusing under any circumstances to be bored.
I'm sorry you had to leave town in such a hurry. Were you amusing yourself?
I come to the Riviera every year.
I daresay, but not so early.
I've never surrendered so far to middle age as to make habits.
My dear Paradine, the day before yesterday, Lady Mereston, quite distracted, went to the post office and sent you the following wire: "Come at once, your help urgently needed. Charlie in toils designing female, Maud." Am I right?
I never admit even to myself that a well-dressed woman is mistaken.
So you started post-haste, bent upon protecting your nephew, and were infinitely surprised to learn that the designing female was no other than your humble servant.
You'd be irresistible, Lady Frederick, if you didn't know you were so clever.
And now what are you going to do?
My dear lady, I'm not a police officer, but a very harmless, inoffensive old bachelor.
With more wiles than the mother of many daughters and the subtlety of a company promoter.
Maud seems to think that as I've racketted about a little in my time, I'm just the sort of man to deal with you. Set a thief to catch a thief, don't you know? She's rather fond of proverbs.
She should have thought rather of: When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war. I hear Lady Mereston has been saying the most agreeable things about me.
Ah, that's women's fault; they always show their hand. You're the only woman I ever knew who didn't.
[With a brogue.] You should have avoided the Blarney Stone when you went to Ireland.
Look here, d'you want to marry Charlie?
Why should I?
Because he's got fifty thousand a year, and you're head over ears in debt. You've got to raise something like four thousand pounds at once, or you go under. You've got yourself a good deal talked about during the last ten years, but people have stood you because you had plenty of money. If you go broke they'll drop you like a hot potato. And I daresay it wouldn't be inconvenient to change Lady Frederick Berolles into Lady Mereston. My sister has always led me to believe that it is rather attractive to be a Marchioness.
Unlike a duchess, its cheap without being gaudy.
You asked me why you might want to marry a boy from ten to fifteen years younger than yourself, and I've told you.
And now perhaps you'll tell me why you're going to interfere in my private concerns?
Well, you see his mother happens to be my sister, and I'm rather fond of her. It's true her husband was the most sanctimonious prig I've ever met in my life.
I remember him well. He was president of the Broad Church Union and wore side-whiskers.
But she stuck to me through thick and thin. I've been in some pretty tight places in my day, and she's always given me a leg up when I wanted it. I've got an idea it would just about break her heart if Charlie married you.
Thanks.
You know, I don't want to be offensive, but I think it would be a pity myself. And besides, unless I'm much mistaken,