Sydney. [Calling] Kit!
Kit. [Reappearing] Yes?
Sydney. Come round in the afternoon.
Kit. Right! [He goes out.]
Sydney. [Calling] Kit!
Kit. [Reappearing] Yes?
Sydney. I don’t suppose there’ll ever be any cross-roads.
Kit. Darling! [A scuffle. Sydney reappears patting her hair.]
Miss Fairfield. I’m afraid I disturbed a tête-à-tête.
Sydney. [Sweetly] Oh, Auntie, whatever made you think that?