[They both jump up, Beatie scattering the nuts that are in her lap all over the floor. Cis throws his cigarette into the fireplace and sits at the piano, playing a simple exercise, very badly. Beatie stands behind him counting.
Beatie.
One—and two—and one—and two.
Wyke, the butler, appears at the door, and mysteriously closes it after him.
Wyke.
Ssss! Master Cis! Master Cis!
Cis.
Hallo—what is it, Wyke?
Wyke.