Imogen.
[Quietly to Lady Twombley.] Mamma!
Lady Twombley.
[To herself.] No telegram from town. [To Imogen.] Imogen, you had better not lose your dance.
[With a slight courtesy to Macphail, Imogen gives him her arm as Valentine enters, trimmed, shaven, and in immaculate evening dress.]
Brooke Twombley.
Why, Val!
Lady Euphemia Vibart.
Mr. White!
Valentine White.