In about a fortnight.
Muriel.
[Frigidly.] Is this what you had to tell me, from him?
Sophy.
Yes, and that he must see you to-morrow, alone. I'll arrange it. Can you manage to be here at twelve?
Muriel.
I daresay, somehow.
Sophy.
[Looking at her in surprise.] I thought you'd be more upset.