The Winged Beetle

178 MR TODD CARR [solemnly]. Truly, my dear sir, in the midst of life we are in death. [EUPHEMIA looks up and darts a furious glance at him for she knows that he is mocking British solemnity and cant. DELHOMME. Crushed—crushed in a moment—— MRS. OSSORY [very piously]. Without a warning. Ah well, we must hope that—— [Her voice becomes a mumble. DELHOMME. I will bid you good morning ; I am sure you will not wish strangers to intrude upon your grief. If there is anything that I can do— MRS. OSSORY [“ conventionally ”]. Pray do not leave us yet, Monsieur Delhomme. Lunch is just ready. DELHOMME. I really think that I should go. [He shakes hands. MRS. OSSORY. Good morning. We are so grateful for your sympathy and kindness. [He turns to the old man.] Grandfather is asleep. [DELHOMME shakes hands coldly with CARR, wonder- ing why he does not offer to come with him. He goes to EUPHEMIA. EUPHEMIA. [Jumps up and gives her hand, hiding her tear-stained face. She has a slight lisp.] Good morning, monsieur. [He bends over her hand and kisses it. DELHOMME. Always my sympathy and devotion, made- moiselle. EUPHEMIA. Thank you—thank you. [Her real attitude to him is listlessness bordering on aversion, but constrained by politeness ; he mis- takes it for modesty striving with young love.]