EDMUND. But I have.
FLORENCE. It's invisible to the naked eye. You don't golf, and you don't play tennis or cricket or——
EDMUND. I collect postage stamps.
FLORENCE. No wonder you're in bad condition with a secret vice like that. (Goes to open window.)
LEO (sharply). Don't do that.
FLORENCE. It's blazing hot. I can't imagine what you want a fire for.
LEO. Uncle felt chilly.
FLORENCE. Sorry I spoke. No, I'm not. It serves him right for taking no exercise.
(Enter Elsie Whitworth, who, like Florence, is tall and muscular, but with a slim beauty which, contrasted with Florence's loose limbs and occasional gawkishness, is, at twenty-two, comparatively mature. Her indoor dress, to honour the visiting uncle, is elaborate and bright.)
ELSIE. Flo, Eleanor Smith wants you.