Half sighing, half moaning. Ah-h-h-h!
Jimmie.
To Von Rettenmayer. Don’t disturb her. Let her have her snooze in peace.
Von Rettenmayer.
Still contemplating Daphne. Shall I bring you your boddle, you preddy liddle baby?
Enid.
Annoyed. Don’t be an idiot, Karl. To de Castro, who is talking to Farncombe. Sam, will you fetch me some soda-water?
Von Rettenmayer.
To Enid, bestirring himself. I beg bardon.
He goes out, with de Castro. Enid has taken the mirror from the table and now looks at herself in it.