Miss Spelwane (as she rises). They ought to feel it an immense privilege. I know I shall.
The Bishop (to himself, as he rises). Port in sight—at last! But, oh, what I have had to suffer!
Lady Cantire (at parting). Well, we've had quite one of our old discussions. I always enjoy talking to you, Bishop. But I haven't yet got at your reasons for voting as you did on the Parish Councils Bill; we must go into that upstairs.
The Bishop (with strict veracity). I shall be—ah—all impatience, Lady Cantire. (To himself.) I fervently trust that a repetition of this experience may yet be spared me!
"I SHALL BE—AH—ALL IMPATIENCE, LADY CANTIRE."
Lady Rhoda (as she leaves Spurrell). You will tell me the name of the stuff upstairs, won't you? So very much ta!
Archie (to himself). I'd like to tar him very much, and feather him too, for cuttin' me out like this! (The men sit down; Spurrell finds himself between Archie and Captain Thicknesse, at the further end of the table; Archie passes the wine to Spurrell with a scowl.) What are you drinkin'? Claret? What do you do your writin' on, now, as a general thing?
Spurrell (on the defensive). On paper, sir, when I've any to do. Do you do yours on a slate?
Captain Thicknesse. I say, that's rather good. Had you there, Bearpark!