ELLIE. No, no: I know him quite—almost intimately.
MRS HUSHABYE. You don't know him; and you know him almost intimately. How lucid!
ELLIE. I mean that he does not call on us. I—I got into conversation with him by chance at a concert.
MRS HUSHABYE. You seem to have rather a gay time at your concerts, Ellie.
ELLIE. Not at all: we talk to everyone in the greenroom waiting for our turns. I thought he was one of the artists: he looked so splendid. But he was only one of the committee. I happened to tell him that I was copying a picture at the National Gallery. I make a little money that way. I can't paint much; but as it's always the same picture I can do it pretty quickly and get two or three pounds for it. It happened that he came to the National Gallery one day.
MRS HUSHABYE. On students' day. Paid sixpence to stumble about through a crowd of easels, when he might have come in next day for nothing and found the floor clear! Quite by accident?
ELLIE [triumphantly]. No. On purpose. He liked talking to me. He knows lots of the most splendid people. Fashionable women who are all in love with him. But he ran away from them to see me at the National Gallery and persuade me to come with him for a drive round Richmond Park in a taxi.
MRS HUSHABYE. My pettikins, you have been going it. It's wonderful what you good girls can do without anyone saying a word.
ELLIE. I am not in society, Hesione. If I didn't make acquaintances in that way I shouldn't have any at all.
MRS HUSHABYE. Well, no harm if you know how to take care of yourself. May I ask his name?
ELLIE [slowly and musically]. Marcus Darnley.
MRS HUSHAB
