Exactly! [Throwing himself into the chair between the big doors and the vestibule door.] I predicted a scene! I predicted a scene!
Philip.
[To Sir Randle and Lady Filson, penitently.] Perhaps it would have been wiser of me—more considerate—to have complied with his wishes. But I was in a fury—naturally——
Lady Filson.
[Sitting on the settee on the left.] Naturally.
Sir Randle.
And excusably. I myself, in similar circumstances——
Philip.
[Rubbing his head.] Why the deuce couldn't he have kept his twopenny thunderbolt in his pocket for a few hours, instead of launching it to-night and spoiling our sole à la Morny and our ris de veau——!
Ottoline.