[Taking the flute from Probyn.] My only vice, Euphemia. [Probyn goes out. Sir Julian sounds a mournful note.] This little friend has inspired some of my most conspicuous oratorical triumphs. It has furnished me with many a cutting rejoinder for question time. [He sounds another note.] Ah, I know I am going to have such a bad night in the House.
[He plays. Mrs. Gaylustre enters with Brooke.]
Lady Euphemia Vibart.
[To herself.] That woman!
Mrs. Gaylustre.
[To Lady Euphemia.] How do you do?
[Lady Euphemia stares, inclines her head slightly, and goes to Brooke.]
Mrs. Gaylustre.
[To herself.] Haughty wretch!
Sir Julian Twombley.