LILY. Don’t say anything, please—not yet. Perhaps after tea we can all talk about it, and it may do him good.
MAGGIE goes out. LILY starts to arrange the tea-cups. MR. MASSEY rouses. Re-enter MAGGIE with tea-pot.
MASSEY. Tea?
MAGGIE. Yes, Daddy.
MASSEY. In here? There’s no room.
MAGGIE. It’s cosey. I’ll bring yours to the sofa.
MASSEY. Where am I to put it?—on the floor?
MAGGIE. I’ll bring up a table for you if you must have one. You wouldn’t do for a Society gentleman. Can’t you balance a cup on your knee?
MASSEY. I don’t mean to try. Hope you haven’t got out those finnicky little cups. I want my own.