Mr. C. Oh—I haven't been either. Er—do you care to—?
[They take another turn.
Mr. C. (after third halt). Er—do you take any interest in politics?
Miss T. R. Not a bit.
Mr. C. (much relieved). No more do I. (Considers that he has satisfied all mental requirements.) Er—let me take you down stairs for an ice.
[They go.
Mrs. Grappleton (re-entering with Mr. Boldover, after a discussion that has outlasted two ices and a plate of strawberries). Well, I thought you would have explained my difficulties better than that—oh, what a delicious waltz! Doesn't it set you longing to dance?
Mr. B. (who sees Miss Roundarm in the distance, disengaged). Yes, I really think I must—. [Preparing to escape.
Mrs. Grappleton. I'm getting such an old thing, that really I oughtn't to—but well, just this once, as my husband isn't here.
[Mr. Boldover resigns himself to necessity once more.