Celia. Yes.
Tarver. I hope awfully that you will help me in my election.
Raleigh. (Speaking from card room, turning in his chair and holding card aloft) Yes, it's just girls like you, Miss Faraday, who win the day.
Tarver. Righto!!
Grice. (Thumping the table) Have you none of that suit, sir?
Raleigh. (Whirling around and playing) Oh, yes, I beg your pardon.
(Madge comes to desk, gets her letter, goes down to foot of sofa and hands it to Phyllis. Steele sees that Celia has finished letter and comes slowly down C.)
Celia. Of course, I will help you, Mr. Tarver. It's awfully nice to have you ask me for help, you know.
Tarver. Oh, thanks awfully. (Goes up and around to Phyllis, who is on sofa, talks to Madge and Phyllis.)
Steele. You have finished, Miss Faraday?