LATIMER. Yes.... Don’t overdo the length, Dominic, and I like the crinkly sort.
DOMINIC. Yes, sir.... One of our most successful weeks on the whole, if I may say so, sir.
LATIMER (thoughtfully). Yes.... Well, well, we must all do what we can, Dominic.
DOMINIC. That’s the only way, isn’t it, sir?
(They stand looking at each other. Just for a moment DOMINIC is off duty. That grave face relaxes; the eyes crease into a smile. MR. LATIMER smiles back.... Very gently they begin to laugh together; old friends; master and servant no longer. “Dear, dear! These children!” says DOMINIC’S laugh. “How very amusing they are, to be sure!” LATIMER’S laugh is a little rueful; a moment ago he, too, was almost a child. Yet he laughs. “Good old DOMINIC!”
Suddenly the front-door bell rings. Instinctively they stiffen to attention. They are on duty again. They turn and march off, almost, as it were, saluting each other; MR. LATIMER to his quarters, DOMINIC to his bolts and bars. He draws the curtains and opens the big front door.)
[178]A MANLY VOICE. Oh, is this—er—an hotel?
DOMINIC. A sort of hotel, your Grace.
HIS GRACE (coming in, a lady on his arm). My chauffeur said—we’ve had an accident—been delayed on the way—he said that——
(Evidently another romantic couple. Let us leave them to MR. LATIMER.)