ROYCE. Oh, I beg your pardon. (He steps on one side.)
WILLIAM (in a whisper). Septima.
SEPTIMA (coming forward). Congratulations, Grandfather. (She bends her head, and he kisses her.)
BLAYDS. Thank you, my dear. I don’t know what I’ve done, but thank you.
OLIVER (coming forward). Congratulations, Grandfather. (He bends down and BLAYDS puts a hand on his head.)
BLAYDS. Thank you, my boy, thank you. (Wistfully) I was your age once.
(WILLIAM, who has been very busy pouring out port, now gets busy distributing it. When they are all ready he holds up his glass.)
WILLIAM. Are we all ready? (They are.) Blayds!
[209]ALL. Blayds! (They drink.)
BLAYDS (moved as always by this). Thank you, thank you. (Recovering himself) Is that the Jubilee port, William?