[She paces the room; John joins her, and is seen expostulating. Mrs. Cloys joins Sir Fletcher.
John.
Olive, Olive, be reasonable!
Olive.
I will be, when you and your friends are honest with me.
[She leaves him, as Quaife enters with a note upon a salver.
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
[Looking at his watch.] Oh, Allingham, the hotel people were to send a carriage up for us; perhaps you’ll get your servant——
John.
Certainly. [To Quaife.] Quaife—what’s that?