NICHOLAS (to ANNE). I say, do you really think I ought to stay?
ANNE. Please, Mr. Nicholas, I want you to stay.
NICHOLAS. Righto! then I’ll stay.
LATIMER (over EUSTASIA’S shoulder). A hundred and nine.
LEONARD (putting his head round the screen). I say, what ought it to be?
NICHOLAS. Ninety-eight.
LEONARD. Good Lord! I’m dying!
EUSTASIA. It’s just ninety-nine. A little over normal, Leonard, but nothing to matter.
LATIMER. Ninety-nine—so it is. I should never have forgiven myself if it had been a hundred and nine.
NICHOLAS (coming up to LATIMER). It’s all right, I’m going to.