[Sits on sofa.] And anyway I want to eat my piece of cake. Will you pass it, please? [He passes the plate.] Thank you. I hope you won’t mind my eating.
Gunning.
Not at all. I like it.
Miss Woodward.
Not that I fear it would make any difference if you did.
Gunning.
No, certainly not. Go on being natural, please. [Pause. He watches her nibbling the cake.] Shall I ring for a fresh piece?
Miss Woodward.
No, thank you. I’m used to this piece now. [She glances up at him.] You needn’t be disconcerted, Mr. Gunning.
Gunning.