Go—go to Dora. Make my excuses. I’ll follow you when I’ve pulled myself together.
Sir Julian Twombley.
Yes, yes. [Turning.] By the way, Kitty, Hopwoods have just sent in their bill for erecting this conservatory.
Lady Twombley.
[Clinging to the back of the chair.] Oh!
Sir Julian Twombley.
You remember I transferred, at your request, seven thousand some odd pounds to your account at Scott’s when we projected the—h’m!—pardonable little extravagance?
Lady Twombley.
Y—yes.
Sir Julian Twombley.