Bunburying

How are you, my dear Ernest? What brings you up to town?

Oh, pleasure, pleasure! What else should bring one anywhere? Eating as usual, I see, Algy!

I believe it is customary in good society to take some slight refreshment at about five o'clock. Where have you been since last Thursday?

In the country.

What on earth do you do there?

When one is in town one amuses oneself. When one is in the country one amuses other people. It is excessively boring.

And who are the people you amuse?

Oh, neighbours, neighbours.

Got nice neighbours in your part of Shropshire?

Perfectly horrid! Never speak to one of them.

How immensely you must amuse them! By the way, Shropshire is your county, is it not?

Eh? Shropshire? Yes, of course.

I have Bunbury's directions, of course. He is my invaluable permanent invalid. I have invented an invaluable permanent invalid called Bunbury, in order that I may be able to go down into the country whenever I choose.

What nonsense!

It isn't nonsense. If it wasn't for Bunbury's extraordinary bad health, for instance, I wouldn't be able to dine with you at Willis's tonight, for I have been really engaged to Aunt Augusta for more than a week.

I haven't asked you to dine with me anywhere tonight.

I know. You are absurdly careless about sending out invitations. It is very foolish of you. Nothing annoys people so much as not receiving invitations.