Celia. (Warmly) I am sure I have, Mr. Raleigh.
Faraday. (From card room) Come, Raleigh.
Raleigh. (Over his shoulder) But you threw down your cards.
Faraday. Well, I'm going to take them up again.
Grice. (Impatiently) Come along, Raleigh!
Steele. (Triumphantly motions Raleigh back to card room and eagerly takes his place beside Celia's chair) What Raleigh has just said, I most warmly echo, my dear Miss Faraday.
(Raleigh returns and takes Steele by the arm.)
Raleigh. You are wanted over here, Steele.
(Celia watches them with amusement.)
Steele. But I am cut out.