MURIEL: My head is simply going round now.
RACHAEL: (In an undertone to ANTHONY) Did Gloria tell you to stay away from me?
ANTHONY: (Confused) Why, certainly not. Of course not.
(RACHAEL smiles at him inscrutably. Two years have given her a sort of hard, well-groomed beauty.)
MAURY: (Holding up his glass) Here's to the defeat of democracy and the fall of Christianity.
MURIEL: Now really!
(She flashes a mock-reproachful glance at MAURY and then drinks.
They all drink, with varying degrees of difficulty.)
MURIEL: Clear the floor!
(It seems inevitable that this process is to be gone through, so ANTHONY and GLORIA join in the great moving of tables, piling of chairs, rolling of carpets, and breaking of lamps. When the furniture has been stacked in ugly masses at the sides, there appears a space about eight feet square.)