DOMINIC. Oh, I beg your pardon, sir.
LATIMER. Go on, Anne. (Happily) I am having neuralgia, Dominic.
DOMINIC. Yes, sir. A stubborn complaint, as I have heard, sir.
LATIMER. Miss Anne is making me well.... What did you want?
DOMINIC. Her ladyship says will you please excuse her if she is not down to-night.
LATIMER (to ANNE). Shall we excuse her if she is not down to-night?
[176]DOMINIC. The fact is, sir, that Joseph is taken ill suddenly, and——
LATIMER (to himself). I never thought of Joseph!
ANNE. Oh, poor Joseph! What is it?
DOMINIC. A trifling affection of the throat, but necessitating careful attention, her ladyship says.