Lily.
Whimpering. Oh—! Oh——!
Mrs. Upjohn.
Don’t, dearie; don’t. Mother’s ’ere.
Roper.
Impatiently. I—ah—I think I’ll run downstairs and shake hands with Jeyes and Farncombe while Lily’s tidying herself.
Jimmie.
Who has moved over to the right—to Roper. Be careful. I should advise you not to risk it.
Roper.
At the door. Risk it?