Kit. [At the foot of the stairs] All serene?
Sydney makes no answer. Kit prances up behind her with the bunch of mistletoe.
Kit. [Repeating his success] “The mistletoe hung in the old oak hall!”
Sydney. [Violently] Oh, for God’s sake, stop it!
Kit. [Quenched] What’s the row?
Sydney. You never know when to stop.
Kit. Well, you needn’t snap out at a person—
Sydney. [Impulsively] Sorry! Oh, sorry, old man! I’m jumpy to-day.
Kit. [Chaffing her] Nervy old thing!