Mrs. Futvoye.
[Vainly trying to reach the dish.] I'm such a long way off!
Horace.
Yes. I think we'd better all—er—close up a bit.
[They all work themselves up uncomfortably on their respective cushions nearer the table.
Professor Futvoye.
[As Horace takes Mrs. Futvoye's and Sylvia's right hands and guides them to the dish.] And he calls this a simple, ordinary little dinner!