Gray. There goes the twentieth. Don’t you see how it makes you jump?
Sydney has gone to the telephone.
Sydney. Hullo! Hullo!... You rang me up. [She hangs up the receiver] “Sorry you have been trubbled!” And it’s sure to be someone trying to get on.
Gray. On Christmas morning? Hardly! I say, come along! The bells have stopped.
Margaret. [In a strange voice] Yes, they stopped when that other bell rang.
Sydney. Why, Mother, what’s the matter?
Margaret. [Blindly] They stopped.
Sydney. I told you, darling, you’re late.
Margaret. Give me my furs. I’m cold. [Gray helps her on with them.]
Sydney. [Proud of her] They are lovely.