Robbie came back yesterday. I hope I haven't done wrong; I've asked him to dine here to-night.
Ottoline.
Wrong! Dear old Robbie! But I didn't want him just now. [Loosening her wrap and hunting for a pocket in it.] I've brought you a little gift, Phil—en souvenir de cette soirée——
Philip.
[Reprovingly.] Oh——!
Ottoline.
I got it at Cartier's this afternoon. I meant to slip it into your serviette to-night quietly, but it's burning a hole in my pocket. [She produces a small jewel-case and presents it to him.] Will you wear that in your tie sometimes?
Philip.
[Opening the case and gazing at its contents.] Phiou! [She leaves him, walking away to the fireplace.] What a gorgeous pearl! [He follows her and they stand side by side, he holding the case at arm's-length admiringly, his other arm round her waist.] You shouldn't, Otto. You're incorrigible.
Ottoline.