Lady Filson.
Oh, enormously!
Bertram.
[Magnanimously.] Anyhow, my dear mother, if Ottoline is fond of the man, I promise you that not a murmur from me shall mar their happiness.
Lady Filson.
[Tenderly, pinching his chin.] My darling!
Bertram.
[With a shiver.] I'm afraid I am getting a little chilled; [giving her the press-cuttings] I'll go and change.
Lady Filson.
Oh, my pet, run away at once!