[Falteringly Ottoline returns to the fireplace. She stands there for a few seconds, clutching the mantel-shelf, and then subsides into the chair before the fire. Philip advances to the settee on the right.
Philip.
[To Dunning.] Sorry we have checked your flow of eloquence, Mr. Dunning, even for a moment. [Sitting.] I wouldn't miss a syllable of it. [Airily.] Do, please, continue.
Sir Randle.
[Looking at his watch.] My dear Philip——!
Bertram.
[To Dunning, wearily.] Oh, come to the man—what's his name, Dunning?—Merryweather——!
Dunning.
[Turning several pages of his note-book with his wet thumb.] Merrifield.
Bertram.