LESLIE. Y—es. I’m here. Coming, darling.
SYBIL and LILY re-enter R.
LESLIE. My wife has sent for me home, Mrs. Wilson.
MAGGIE. Are you going over the wall?
SYBIL. Oh, do, Mr. Leslie—I should love to see you.
LESLIE. If it will give you any pleasure it shall be done, though I am not at my best on the fence.
They all crowd round—he shakes hands, smiling profusely, and disappears through the window.
VOICE. Mind the flower-pot. No—not there—that’s the dustbin. Not the steps.
There is a great shout to announce his safe arrival.