[Blowing.] Pfhh! [Folding the gloves neatly.] I am almost glad, in the circumstances, that I didn't regard it as an event which laid me under an obligation to send flowers.
Lady Filson.
[With a change of tone.] Er—Randle——
Sir Randle.
[Putting his gloves into his tail-pocket.] Yes, dear.
Lady Filson.
[Significantly.] Sir Timothy is upstairs.
Sir Randle.
Sir Timothy Barradell?
Lady Filson.