[A bright, energetic, fairly young lady.] How'r you, Robbie? Walter is so grieved; he's lunching at the Auto with Tony Baxter. He did try to wriggle out of it—[Discovering Green and going to him with her hand extended.] Oh, I am glad! You're just the man I'm dying to see.
Green.
[Kissing her hand.] Haw——!
Mrs. Quebec.
Lady Skewes and I are getting up a concert in aid of the poor sufferers from the earthquake in—what's the name of the place?—I forget—Lady Skewes knows it—and we want you to say a lot about us in your darling paper. Only distinguished amateurs; that's where the novelty comes in. Lady Skewes is going to play the violin, if she can pull herself together—she hasn't played for centuries—[seeing Philip, advancing, and shaking hands with him casually] how d'ye do?—[to Green] and I've promised to sing.
Green.
Splendid.
Roope.
But how captivating!
Mrs. Quebec.