MAGGIE. The one with the hair all over her eyes—nice hair, too.
LILY. Gladys Vancouver? Poor Percy—I’m afraid he is a little bit of a flirt.
MAGGIE. He’s got nothing else to do with his evenings.
LILY. And then people like Mr. Tennant think it’s a dull life.
MAGGIE. Well, good night all. No, don’t come out, Mr. Tennant—I’m quite a capable person.
TENNANT. Oh, but I shall—if you’ll allow me.
MAGGIE. I’d rather you didn’t—still, if you will. [They go out with LILY.]
CHARLEY looks round and sighs with relief—he walks round, looks out of the window, then at the garden—he takes up the paper, but after trying in vain to settle to it, throws it on the floor—he re-fills his pipe and lights it. Re-enter TENNANT.
TENNANT. Well. [He pauses, but CHARLEY does not stir.] I say, Wilson, I never thought you’d take it like this.