MR. BRIGGS (hastily)
I told you they behave like two fiends when they see me with you. (Glancing right and left nervously.) Well, excuse me. (With perfect gravity he kneels at one end of the settee, which is in the rear, a little left of “center.”) It’ll be a good deal better if they don’t see me, I expect. (He promptly crawls under the settee, and the valance conceals him entirely. From this invisibility he appeals with pathetic urgency in a hoarse whisper): They’ll prob’ly go right on. Please wait! Or—if you haf to go, come back!
(Mrs. Curtis stands dumbfounded for a moment; and then, controlling a tendency to laugh immoderately, she turns to examine a print on the left wall as Mr. Briggs’s mother enters from the right. Mrs. Briggs is a handsome woman of forty-five or fifty, not now in a gracious mood. She comes in decisively, halts, and stares at Mrs. Curtis’ back. Then she looks over the room in an annoyed and puzzled manner. Mr. Briggs’s sister Jessie comes in from the left. She is a pretty girl of about twenty, but her expression is now rather cross. Her dress and equipment show that she has just come in from the golf course.)
JESSIE (calling as she comes in)
Lancelot! (She halts, puzzled, and looks inquiringly at her mother.) Mamma, where’s Lancelot? I was sure I saw him in here just a second ago.
MRS. BRIGGS (grimly)
So was I. (After looking at each other, they turn their heads simultaneously and stare at Mrs. Curtis, who appears to be interested in the print.) It’s very odd!
JESSIE
Yes, very.
(The two again look at each other, and at a little distance appear to consult telepathically, without any change of expression; then they turn once more to look at Mrs. Curtis.)