FRANKLYN. Mr Haslam is going, Savvy. He has an engagement.
SAVVY. I know. I'm the engagement.
CONRAD. In that case, would you mind taking him into the garden while I talk to your father?
SAVVY [to Haslam] Tennis?
HASLAM. Rather!
SAVVY. Come on. [She dances out. He runs boyishly after her].
FRANKLYN [leaving his table and beginning to walk up and down the room discontentedly] Savvy's manners jar on me. They would have horrified her grandmother.
CONRAD [obstinately] They are happier manners than Mother's manners.
FRANKLYN. Yes: they are franker, wholesomer, better in a hundred ways. And yet I squirm at them. I cannot get it out of my head that Mother was a well-mannered woman, and that Savvy has no manners at all.
CONRAD. There wasnt any pleasure in Mother's fine manners. That makes a biological difference.