trebell. [With no trace of self-consciousness.] Well . . how are you, after this long time?
amy. How do you do? [Then she sees wedgecroft and has to control a shrinking from him.] Oh!
wedgecroft. How are you, Mrs. O'Connell?
trebell. Kent is telephoning to Frances. He knows where she is.
amy. How are you, Dr. Wedgecroft? [then to trebell.] Did you have a good holiday? London pulls one to pieces wretchedly. I shall give up living here at all.
wedgecroft. You look very well.
amy. Do I!
trebell. A very good holiday. Sit down . . he won't be a minute.
She sits on the nearest chair.
amy. You're not ill . . interviewing a doctor?