(They stare at each other—open-mouthed—all but MR. LATIMER. MR. LATIMER has picked up “The Times,” and seems to have forgotten that they are there....)
ANNE (after hours and hours). Oh, isn’t anybody going to say anything? Mr. Latimer, while Leonard is thinking of something, you might introduce me to his wife.
LATIMER (recalled suddenly from the leading article). I beg your pardon! Eustasia, this is Anne.
ANNE. How do you do? (Not that she minds.)
EUSTASIA. How do you do? (Nor she.)
LATIMER. Leonard, this is Nicholas.
NICHOLAS (nodding). We’ve met. Quite old friends.
LEONARD (indignantly). I repudiate the friendship. We met under false pretences. I—I—Well, upon my word, I don’t know what to say.
NICHOLAS. Then don’t say it, old boy. Here we all are, and we’ve got to make the best of it.
LEONARD. I—I—a-tish-oo!