Lily.
Languidly. Either; I don’t care.
Maud.
Oh, gracious, what on earth is the matter with you this morning! I’ve never known you as queer as this after any hop you’ve been to in my time. To Mrs. Upjohn, who has lowered her paper. Nothing wrong, is there?
Lily.
Turning over and burying her head in the cushions. Maud.
Maud.
Moving to the settee and bending over Lily. Here I am, lovey.
Lily.
In a muffled voice. Go into the next room and shut the door, and don’t let me see your stupid, fat face till I come to you.