"We must stay."
Philip was about to address Lady Winsleigh on the subject, when suddenly
Neville touched him on the arm.
"Can I speak to you alone for a moment, Sir Philip?" he said in a
strange, hoarse whisper. "Outside the box--away from the ladies--a
matter of importance!"
He looked as if he were about to faint. He gasped rather than spoke
these words; his face was white as death, and his eyes had a confused
and bewildered stare.
"Certainly!" answered Philip promptly, though not without an accent of
surprise,--and, excusing their absence briefly to his wife and Lady
Winsleigh, they left the box together. Meanwhile the well-fed
"Humming-Bird" was capering extravagantly before the footlights,
pointing her toe in the delighted face of the stalls and singing in a in
a loud, coarse voice the following refined ditty--
"Oh my ducky, oh my darling, oh my duck, duck, duck!
If you love me you must have a little pluck, pluck, pluck!
Come and put your arms around me, kiss me once, twice, thrice,
For kissing may be naughty, but, by Jingo! it is nice!
Once, twice, thrice!
Nice, nice, nice!
Bliss, bliss, bliss!
Kiss, kiss, kiss!
Kissing may be naughty, but it's nice!"
There were several verses in this graceful poem, and each one was hailed
with enthusiastic applause.
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