Cuthbert. No, ma'am. She is alone.
Mrs. R. Haslam. Will you tell her that I should be very much obliged if she could join us here for a moment.
Cuthbert. Yes, ma'am.... A representative of the "Piccadilly Gazette" has just called, ma'am—for information. A male representative.
Mrs. R. Haslam. "The Piccadilly"! (To Mr. R. Haslam.) The audacity! (To Cuthbert.) About what? (Cuthbert makes a gesture of embarrassment.) You told him to call again to-morrow?
Cuthbert. No, ma'am. He's waiting.
Mrs. R. Haslam. Father, would you mind going out to him? (Exit Cuthbert.) I really wonder at Cuthbert! (To Bishop.) We have an absolute rule against seeing journalists after dinner. As you know, Bishop, I detest notoriety. Hence our rule. And yet Cuthbert allows this man to wait!
Mr. R. Haslam. (Going to door.) Cuthbert is not himself. Cuthbert has been staggered by the events of the day. The strain of pretending that nothing in the least unusual has happened must be tremendous. Allowance should be made for Cuthbert. How shall I treat this invader?
(The Bishop dips into the novel.)
Mrs. R. Haslam. Well, without actually mentioning their review, perhaps you might just indicate by your manner——
Mr. R. Haslam. These journalists are so obtuse, but still——