Ulysses.  Some people are like that.  On’y turn red, you know, specially the nose—­catches ’em there, y’know!

The Siren.  I’m obliged to you, I’m sure!  Is that meant to be personal?

Ulysses.  Oh, I wasn’t thinking of you when I said that.

The Siren.  You’re very complimentary.  But do tell me—­am I like that? (She presents her face for his inspection.) Candidly, now.

Ulysses (conscientiously).  Well, I don’t notice anything particular—­but, you see, colours don’t show up by moonlight.

    [The Siren coldly intimates that her Mother will be
    waiting supper for them.

An Habitue.  Some people will tell yer, now, that Margit’s vulgar.  They must be precious ’ard to please, that’s all!  I’m as partickler as what most are, and I can assure yer if there was anythink o’ that sort about, I shouldn’t come down ’ere reglar, season after season, like I do!

His Companion.  In course not—­and no more shouldn’t I, neither!

ALONG THE ESPLANADE.

Female Voice (from the recesses of a glazed shelter).  But if you’re on the sands all day, how is it I never see you?

Male Voice (mysteriously).  Would you like to know?  Really?  You shall. (With pride.) I’m one of the Niggers!

Fem.  V. (deeply impressed).  Not “GUSSIE,” or “Uncle ERNIE!”

Male V. (with proud superiority).  Not exactly.  I conduct, I do—­on the ’armonium.

Fern.  V. (rapturously).  Oh!  I ‘ad a sort o’ feeling, from the very first, that you must be Somebody!

A Lodging-House Keeper.  Yes, nice people they was—­I don’t know when I’ve ’ad such nice people.  I’ll tell you what they did ...  They come on a Thursday—­yes, Thursday it was—­and took the rooms from the Saturday followin’ to the next Saturday—­and then they stopped on to the Saturday after that.  I do call that nice—­don’t you?

A Mystic Plaint (from a Bench).  Many and many a time I’ve borrered the kittles for them when the School Inspector was comin’—­and now for them to turn round on me like this!  It’s a shame, it is.

A Lady of Economical Principles (at a Bow-window, addressing her Husband at the railings).  Why, my dear feller, why ever did you go and do that—­when there was a bed empty ’ere for him?

The Husband (sulkily).  No one ever said a word to me about there being a bed.  And I’ve taken one for him now at the Paragon, anyway—­so that’s settled!

The Economical Lady.  I call it downright foolishness to go paying ’alf-a-crown a night for a bed, when there’s one all ready ’ere for him!  And you don’t know how long he may mean to stop, either!