I say—don't you say yes to Saunders.
MALLORY.
I know. Tell the old gentleman. [To Saunders.] He knows. [To Rankling.] He knows. [ With a simultaneous gesture they pocket the notes and go to find their seats at table. They all sit. The lobster salad and the pâté have been placed by Tyler at the end of the table. Tyler now enters carrying nine large plates which he places before Queckett.]
QUECKETT.
[ With assumed composure and good spirits. ] There is a spontaneity about our jolly little supper which will perhaps, ah'm! atone for any absence of elaboration.
RANKLING.
Don't name it, Mr. Queckett.
MALLORY.
Just as it should be, my dear fellow. [Tyler goes out.]