Plays: Lady Frederick, The Explorer, A Man of Honour. W. Somerset Maugham

at the bottom just suggests those foibles—you can hardly call them faults—which add a certain grace and interest to my personality. And the flounce. Paradine, I beseech you to look at it carefully. I would sooner have designed this flounce than won the Battle of Waterloo.

      Madame Claude.

      Your ladyship is very kind.

      Lady Frederick.

      Not at all, not at all. You remember that rose chiffon. I wore it the other day, and the dear Archduchess came up to me and said: "My dear, my dear." I thought she was going to have a fit. But when she recovered she kissed me on both cheeks and said: "Lady Frederick, you have a dressmaker worth her weight in gold." You heard her, Paradine, didn't you?

      Fouldes.

      You forget that I only arrived last night.

      Lady Frederick.

      Of course. How stupid of me. She'll be perfectly delighted to hear that you're in Monte Carlo. But I shall have to break it to her gently.

      Madame Claude.

      [Unmoved.] I'm sorry to intrude upon your ladyship.

      Lady Frederick.

      Now what are you talking about? If you hadn't come to see me I should never have forgiven you.

      Madame Claude.

      I wanted to have a little talk with your ladyship.

      Lady Frederick.

      Oh, but I hope we shall have many little talks. Have you brought your motor down?

      Madame Claude.

      Yes.

      Lady Frederick.

      That's charming. You shall take me for a drive in it every day. I hope you're going to stay some time.

      Madame Claude.

      That depends on circumstances, Lady Frederick. I 'ave a little business to do here.

      Lady Frederick.

      Then let me give you one warning—don't gamble.

      Madame Claude.

      Oh, no, my lady. I gamble quite enough in my business as it is. I never know when my customers will pay their bills—if ever.

      Lady Frederick.

      [Slightly taken aback.] Ha, ha, ha.

      Fouldes.

      [With a deep guffaw.] Ho, ho, ho.

      Lady Frederick.

      Isn't she clever? I must tell that to the Archduchess. She'll be so amused. Ha, ha, ha, ha. The dear Archduchess, you know she loves a little joke. You must really meet her. Will you come and lunch? I know you'd hit it off together.

      Madame Claude.

      [More genially.] That's very kind of your ladyship.

      Lady Frederick.

      My dear, you know perfectly well that I've always looked upon you as one of my best friends. Now who shall we have? There's you and me and the Archduchess. Then I'll ask Lord Mereston.

      Madame Claude.

      The Marquess of Mereston, Lady Frederick?

      Lady Frederick.

      Yes. And Mr. Fouldes, his uncle.

      Madame Claude.

      Excuse me, are you the Mr. Paradine Fouldes?

      Fouldes.

      [Bowing.] At your service, madam.

      Madame Claude.

      I'm so glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Fouldes. [Unctuously.] I've always heard you're such a bad man.

      Fouldes.

      Madam, you overwhelm me with confusion.

      Madame Claude.

      Believe me, Mr. Fouldes, it's not the ladies that are married to saints who take the trouble to dress well.

      Lady Frederick.

      Now we want a third man. Shall we ask my brother—you know Sir Gerald O'Mara, don't you? Or shall we ask Prince Doniani? Yes, I think we'll ask the Prince. I'm sure you'd like him. Such a handsome man! That'll make six.

      Madame Claude.

      It's very kind of you, Lady Frederick, but—well, I'm only a tradeswoman, you know.

      Lady Frederick.

      A tradeswoman? How can you talk such nonsense. You are an artist—a real artist, my dear. And an artist is fit to meet a king.

      Madame Claude.

      Well, I don't deny that I'd be ashamed to dress my customers in the gowns I see painted at the Royal Academy.

      Lady Frederick.

      Then it's quite settled, isn't it, Madame Claude—oh, may I call you Ada?

      Madame Claude.

      Oh, Lady Frederick, I should be very much flattered. But how did you know that was my name?

      Lady Frederick.

      Why you wrote me a letter only the other day.

      Madame Claude.

      Did I?

      Lady Frederick.

      And such a cross letter too.

      Madame Claude.

      [Apologetically.] Oh, but Lady Frederick, that was only in the way of business. I don't exactly remember what expressions I may have made use of——

      Lady Frederick.

      [Interrupting, as if the truth had suddenly flashed across her.] Ada! I do believe you came here to-day about my account.

      Madame Claude.

      Oh, no, my lady, I promise you.

      Lady Frederick.

      You did; I know you did. I see it in your face. Now that really wasn't nice of you. I thought you came as a friend.

      Madame Claude.

      I did, Lady Frederick.

      Lady Frederick.

      No, you wanted to dun me. I'm disappointed in you. I did think, after all the things I've had from you, you wouldn't treat me like that.

      Madame Claude.

      But I assure your ladyship....

      Lady Frederick.

      Not another word. You came to ask for a cheque. You shall have it.

      Madame Claude.

      No, Lady Frederick, I wouldn't take it.

      Lady Frederick.

      What is the exact figure, Madame Claude?

      Madame Claude.

      I—I don't remember.

      Lady Frederick.

      Seven hundred and fifty pounds, seventeen and ninepence. You see, I remember. You came for your cheque and you shall have it.

      [She sits down and takes a pen.

      Madame Claude.

      Now, Lady Frederick, I should look upon that as most unkind. It's treating me like a very second-rate establishment.

      Lady Frederick.

      I'm sorry, but you should have thought of that before. Now I haven't got a cheque; how tiresome.

      Madame