Aunt Ida. Difficult!
Tarver. (Seeing he has made a break, tries to recover himself) Well, not quite the sort of person to make friends for one, don't you know?
Aunt Ida. (Growing more and more enraged, rises and faces him) Mr. Tarver!
Tarver. (Now thoroughly frightened) Well, shall we say a,--a--a trifle cold?
Aunt Ida. (Backing him across stage to foot of table R.) Yes, and who has made her a trifle cold--(Imitating Tarver)-and difficult? You and your Henry Steeles and Jimmy Raleighs.
All the Girls Together. Aunt Ida!
Tarver. Oh, I say!
Aunt Ida. Yes, where is she now, I would like to know? Freezing for an hour on an open wharf in the pouring rain, three miles away, because nobody took the trouble to think of her.
Madge. (Coming center. Protestingly) Oh, Aunt Ida, I heard the motor leave not two minutes ago.
Aunt Ida. Yes, just about two hours too late. (Madge goes above table and joins girls, who with Tarver are evidently alarmed under Aunt Ida's attack and express it in a murmur. Tarver sits.) Oh, if only she doesn't get tired of waiting before the motor can get there.