Sir Fletcher Portwood.
Not the slightest; not the slightest.
Olive.
Perhaps not. But before such a very curt message is sent to Mrs. Fraser, will you do me the favour of letting me have two or three minutes’ conversation with my husband alone?
Mrs. Cloys.
I—I am anxious to go to my niece.
Olive.
Two minutes. Please, John.
[John goes to the dining-room door and opens it. After a moment’s hesitation, Mrs. Cloys goes to the door.
Mrs. Cloys.