Philip.
[Slowly folding her in his arms.] Ah! Ah! Ah! [In her ear.] What a night I've spent!
Ottoline.
[Almost inaudibly.] And I!
[He seats her upon the settee on the right and sits beside her, linking his hand in hers.
Philip.
How merciful this is of you! I've just sent you a letter by Robbie Roope, begging you to see me; you've missed him. [Smiling.] It isn't as eloquent as some I started writing at five o'clock this morning. Would you like to hear it? [She nods. He recites his note tenderly.] "Forgive me. I forgive you. When may I come to you?" That's all.
Ottoline.
Isn't that eloquent, Phil?
Philip.