LATIMER. You wish to continue the adventure?
ANNE. Why not?
LATIMER. Dear, dear! What a pity! (Looking at his watch.) In twenty-five minutes?
ANNE. That will do nicely, thank you.
LATIMER. We must let Leonard have a little breakfast first, if he is to cross the Channel to-day. (He gets up.) In twenty-five minutes then.
ANNE (half holding out her hand). I shall see you again?
[133]LATIMER (bending over it). If only to wish you Godspeed.
(She looks at him for a moment, and then turns and goes out. He picks up his paper and settles with it in an arm-chair, his back to the breakfast-table. LEONARD comes in. He is in a dirty, rather disreputable, once white, bath-gown. His hair is unbrushed, his cheeks—the cheeks of a dark man—unshaved and blue. He has a horrible pair of bedroom slippers on his feet, above which, not only his socks, but almost a hint of pantaloons, may be seen on the way to the dressing-gown. He comes in nervously, and is greatly relieved to find that the breakfast-table is empty. He does not notice MR. LATIMER. On his way to the table he stops at a mirror on the wall, and standing in front of it, tries to persuade himself that his chin is not so bad after all. Then he pours himself out some coffee, helps himself to a kipper and falls to ravenously.)
LATIMER. Ah, good morning, Leonard.
LEONARD (starting violently and turning round). Good Lord! I didn’t know you were there.