Phoebe. (She springs up, waving a handkerchief.) Chilvers for ever!
Janet. (Rises.) God bless you!
Mrs. Mountcalm-Villiers. (Clapping her hands.) Now we shan’t be long!
Lady Mogton. (Hammers.) Order, please!
(The three subside.)
This is serious business. The next step is, of course—
(The door opens; Geoffrey enters. He is a youngish-looking man of three or four and thirty. Lady Mogton, at the sound of the door, turns. St. Herbert rises. There is a pause.)
Lady Mogton. We’ve been talking about you. We must apologise for turning your drawing-room—
Geoffrey. My dear mother-in-law, it is Providence. (He kisses her.) There is no one I was more longing to see.
Annys. (She has risen.) Hake told me you would be dining at the House.