He is passing to the bathroom when a diverting notion strikes him.
'What is it, Kenneth?'
'The theatre. It would be showier if I took a lady.'
Mrs. Dowey feels a thumping at her breast.
'Kenneth, tell me this instant what you mean. Don't keep me on the jumps.'
He turns her round.
'No, It couldn't be done.'
'Was it me you were thinking of?'
'Just for the moment,' regretfully, 'but you have no style.'
She catches hold of him by the sleeve.