MAGGIE. I’ve got your own—here. [She holds up a very big breakfast cup, plain white with gilt band.]
MASSEY. I didn’t hear you come in, Lil. Where’s Charley?
LILY. Coming on.
MASSEY. What’ve you done with Foster, Mag?
MAGGIE. He’s not coming.
MAGGIE takes tea round.
MASSEY. Gone away for the week end?
MAGGIE. [taking a cup for herself and sitting down beside LILY.] Oh, no! He’s not coming. That’s all. Lily and I are grass widows. It’s a very nice feeling.
MASSEY. It’s all right about you, but Lil looks a bit off. You’ve got a cold. Your eyes are red.
LILY. Yes, father.