Gunning.
[Looks at him critically, then falls back in his chair.] Fifty-two.
[Parbury looks savagely at Gunning, throws his apple on table, and turns away.
Armitage.
I feared so; but I like you for your frankness.
[He cuts a cigar.
Enter Evans, with tumbler on tray; he places tumbler on table, and collects the breakfast things. Pause. Armitage lights his cigar with a match Evans hands him.
Armitage.
You haven’t asked me if I have a message for you.