ROBERT.
[Intensely.] I will wait for you.
[He takes the slip from the table. Bertha moves away from him slowly. Richard comes in from the garden.]
RICHARD.
[Advancing, takes off his hat.] Good afternoon.
ROBERT.
[Rises, with nervous friendliness.] Good afternoon, Richard.
BERTHA.
[At the table, taking the roses.] Look what lovely roses Mr Hand brought me.
ROBERT.
I am afraid they are overblown.
RICHARD.
[Suddenly.] Excuse me for a moment, will you?
[He turns and goes into his study quickly. Robert takes a pencil from his pocket and writes a few words on the slip; then hands it quickly to Bertha.]
ROBERT.
[Rapidly.] The address. Take the tram at Lansdowne Road and ask to be let down near there.
BERTHA.
[Takes it.] I promise nothing.