(Dolly holds her lips. McComas takes a chair from the luncheon table; places it between the little table and the garden seat with Dolly on his right and Philip on his left; and settles himself in it with the air of a man about to begin a long communication. The Clandons match him expectantly.)
McCOMAS. Ahem! Your father—
DOLLY (interrupting). How old is he?
PHILIP. Sh!
MRS. CLANDON (softly). Dear Dolly: don't let us interrupt Mr. McComas.
McCOMAS (emphatically). Thank you, Mrs. Clandon. Thank you. (To Dolly.) Your father is fifty-seven.
DOLLY (with a bound, startled and excited). Fifty-seven! Where does he live?
MRS. CLANDON (remonstrating). Dolly, Dolly!
McCOMAS (stopping her). Let me answer that, Mrs. Clandon. The answer will surprise you considerably. He lives in this town. (Mrs. Clandon rises. She and Gloria look at one another in the greatest consternation.)
DOLLY (with conviction). I knew it! Phil: Chalkstones is our father.