PARAMORE (with bitter irony). Isn't that rather cruel—a pack of dogs ripping up a fox?
JULIA (coming coaxingly between them). Oh, please don't begin arguing again. Do go to the smoking room, Daddy: Mr. Cuthbertson will wonder what has become of you.
CRAVEN. Very well, very well: I'll go. But you're really not reasonable to-day, Paramore, to talk that way of fair sport—
JULIA. Sh—sh (coaxing him toward the door).
CRAVEN. Well, well, I'm off. (He goes good-humoredly, pushed out by Julia.)
JULIA (turning at the door with her utmost witchery of manner). Don't look so disappointed, Dr. Paramore. Cheer up. You've been most kind to us; and you've done papa a lot of good.
PARAMORE (delighted, rushing over to her). How beautiful it is of you to say that to me, Miss Craven!
JULIA. I hate to see any one unhappy. I can't bear unhappiness. (She runs out, casting a Parthian glance at him as she flies. Paramore stands enraptured, gazing after her through the glass door. Whilst he is thus absorbed Charteris comes in from the dining room and touches him on the arm.)
PARAMORE (starting). Eh! What's the matter?
CHARTERIS (significantly). Charming woman, isn't she, Paramore? (Looking admiringly at him.) How have you managed to fascinate her?