"No, I had Madame What's-her-name's account last week."
"I mean, don't forget to arrange for Viola to go."
"That pilgrimage will, I hope, form a part of what Miss Coldwell would probably call 'extras.' And after all perhaps George will soon be fit."
"The poor old boy has been awfully seedy all the summer."
"What's he suffering from? Infantile paralysis?"
"It's all very well for you to joke about it, but you don't live in a wretched boarding-house in Earl's Court. You mustn't let success spoil you, John. It's so easy when everything comes your way to forget the less fortunate people. Look at me. I'm thirty-four, you know."
"Are you really? I should never have thought it."
"I don't mind your laughing at me, you old crab. But I don't like you to laugh at Georgie."
"I never do," John said. "I don't suppose that there's anybody alive who takes George as seriously as I do."
Eleanor brushed away a tear and said she must get back to the rehearsal.