Bertram.
Yes. I'm just going to change, father.
Sir Randle.
That's right; don't risk catching cold, whatever you do. [Seeing Lady Filson and coming forward.] Ah, your dear mother is down!
[Bertram goes out, closing the door.
Lady Filson.
[Beaming upon Sir Randle.] You haven't been long, Randle.
Sir Randle.
[A cloud overshadowing his face.] I didn't remain for the Dead March, Winnie. [Taking off his black gloves.] I need hardly have troubled to go at all, as it turned out.
Lady Filson.