edward. [jumping up, rather formally, well-mannered.] I beg your pardon, Alice. Won't you sit down?
alice. No.
mr. voysey. [taking ethel on his knee.] Come here, puss. Have you made up your mind yet what you want for a wedding present?
ethel. [rectifying a stray hair in his beard.] After mature consideration, I decide on a cheque.
mr. voysey. Do you!
ethel. Yes, I think that a cheque will give most scope to your generosity. Of course, if you desire to add any trimmings in the shape of a piano or a Turkey carpet you may . . and Denis and I will be very grateful. But I think I'd let yourself go over a cheque.
mr. voysey. You're a minx.
ethel. What is the use of having money if you don't spend it on me?
major booth voysey. [giving up the cigar search.] Here, who's going to play?