(She sits before piano, touching the keys softly, making a faint suggestion of music here and there throughout the conversation). I'm afraid it's a common failing, dear.
Yes—but he's been doing it more than usual. I don't like that man. Ted doesn't like him either. He says he is an oily old scoundrel.
NELLY MORRIS.
Ted might speak a little more respectfully of his host.
PRIMROSE DEANE.
Oh, he's not our host. It's Mrs. Ben Dixon—and besides that was only to me, you know.
NELLY MORRIS.
Oh!
PRIMROSE DEANE.
I never could make out why Mrs. Ben Dixon married him. She's so jolly. (Musingly.) One does come across some very ill-assorted couples—very. When are you going to be married, Nelly?