Tarver. Great Scott! What's the matter?
Madge. What is the matter, Evelyn?
Grice. (Coming center) Really, Lady Trenchard, you ought not to startle people like that. It's selfish. (Goes to her, takes paper from her limp hand and comes down stage.) What's the news, eh?
Faraday. (Taking paper from Grice with importance, and crossing L.) I'll tell you.
Evelyn. (In hushed whisper) Father, the deaths, the deaths!
(During the following scene, Grice is fairly dancing with impatience.)
Faraday. (Reads death notice and sits heavily extreme L. with a sigh) Poor girl!
Madge. (From above table) Father.
(Faraday hands paper to Madge, saying, "Read, read.")
Phyllis. (After a slight pause runs across stage to Madge) What is it, Madge?