Mrs. R. Haslam. (Coldly resenting this criticism of her housekeeping.) Father, shall we go?
Flora. May I give you some tea?
Mrs. R. Haslam. It's very good of you to offer me tea in my own garden, but——
Flora. (With great charm.) Not at all. (Opening her bag.) I have my Thermos. I filled it yesterday before starting. You see, we had no programme, and I didn't know where we might ultimately be landed. Besides, I never travel without it. (She unscrews the Thermos flask and pours out the steaming tea into the patent cover. Then undoes a little packet containing sugar.) One lump, isn't it? (Handing the cup, with a spoon, to Mrs. Reach Haslam, who accepts it.) Sit down and drink it. I guessed about forty places where I might pour that tea out—and they were all wrong! (Mrs. Reach Haslam discovers that the tea is scalding.) It is hot, isn't it?
Mrs. R. Haslam. (Sipping.) I'm afraid you didn't sleep very well, Flora.
Flora. Why?
Mrs. R. Haslam. You're down so exceedingly early.
Flora. The fact is, I could not get off to sleep.
Mr. R. Haslam. (Half to himself.) I put a complete set of my wife's novels in each of the spare bedrooms only yesterday. (With a faint air of being puzzled.)