AUSTIN. Mrs. Metherell?
MRS. METHERELL. Yes.
ELSIE (coming forward on hearing the voice). Father! Austin. You here, Elsie! (Entering—to Mrs. Metherell.) Thank you.
(Mrs. Metherell closes door grimly.)
Well, Metherell, I've come to see how you are.
JACK (rising). I wasn't carried off the field, but it isn't you I have to thank for it.
AUSTIN (sincerely). No. It's your own magnificent skill. I never saw such play.
MRS. METHERELL (coming between them). You'll excuse me, but I don't allow that kind of talk in here.
AUSTIN (surprised). But I was praising your son, Mrs. Metherell.
MRS. METHERELL. He's buttered up too much outside. In here he get's his makeweight of the other thing.