Young Lady.

Not too red—nicely flushed.

First Gentleman.

[Examining his nails critically as he rises.] I say though, that's a vast improvement!

Miss Claridge.

Getting more shapely, aren't they?

First Gentleman.

Thanks awfully.

[He pays Miss Limbird, stands talking to her for a while, and ultimately strolls away through the opening in the partition. After putting her table in order, Miss Claridge goes out the same way, carrying her bowl of water and towel.

Miss Moon.