ALICE. ‘He says it was only a jest, Cosmo.’
COSMO. ‘You are a trump to shield him, mother.’ He kisses her openly, conscious that he is a bit of a trump himself, in which view Alice most obviously concurs.
COLONEL, to his better half, ‘You serpent.’
COSMO. ‘Sir, this language won’t do.’
COLONEL, exasperated, ‘You go to bed, too.’
ALICE. ‘He has sent Amy to bed already. Try to love your father, Cosmo,’ placing many kisses on the spot where he had been slapped. Try for my sake, and try to get Amy and Molly to do it, too.’ Sweetly to her husband, ‘They will love you in time, Robert; at present they can think only of me. Darling, I’ll come and see you in bed.’
COSMO. ‘I don’t like to leave you with him—’
ALICE. ‘Go, my own; I promise to call out if I need you.’
On these terms Cosmo departs. The long-suffering husband, arms folded, surveys his unworthy spouse.
COLONEL. ‘You are a hussy.’