mr. voysey. Hullo, Mother!
mrs. voysey. Oh, there you are, Trench. I've been deserted.
mr. voysey. George Booth gone?
mrs. voysey. Are you talking business? Perhaps you don't want me.
mr. voysey. No, no . . no business.
mrs. voysey. [who has not looked for his answer.] I suppose the others are in the billiard room.
mr. voysey. [vociferously.] We're not talking business, old lady.
edward. I'll be off, sir.
mr. voysey. [genial as usual.] Why don't you stay? I'll come up with you in the morning.