[Turning.] I beg that I may not be detained longer.
[She passes out; John follows her, leaving the door open.
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
[Standing over Claude, shaking him.] Wake up, sir! wake up!
Claude.
[Waking.] What is it? eh? [Rising.] Hullo, Uncle!
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
You’ve been sleeping, sir; your manners are appalling.
Claude.
[Stupidly.] Where’s aunt?