MAGGIE. Don’t blame the poor thing—it’s all right.
MASSEY. The watch, was it? Come here, my girl!
SYBIL goes to him with giggling shyness. He takes her face between his hands.
Was it the watch? Not a bit of it! It was this—[He pats her cheek] these roses. Lucky young dog! Percy! [He kisses her.]
MAGGIE. Rather cold in the Park, isn’t it?
PERCY. Not very.
MAGGIE. There’s a northeast wind. Still, you can find a sheltered seat.
PERCY. Just beyond the glass house thing.
MAGGIE. What did I tell you? [Looking triumphantly round.]
SYBIL. [covering her cheeks.] What a tease you are, Maggie!