Sydney. Yes.
Kit. Right. [He turns from her and goes out.]
Margaret. [Looking up] Was that Kit? Sydney, don’t let him go.
Sydney. Kit! Ki-it!
Kit. [Returning joyfully] Yes! Yes, old thing?
Sydney. [Impassively] Mother wants you.
Margaret. Oh, Kit—would you take this for me? It’s for Mr. Meredith. I expect you’ll meet him, but if not, I want you to take it on. At once, Kit.
Kit. Right, Mrs. Fairfield!
Margaret. [Detaining him] What’s the matter, Kit?
Kit. [His head up] Nothing, Mrs. Fairfield.