Lamb. (To St. Herbert.) No use talking to her, I suppose?
St. Herbert. (Shrugs his shoulders.) She’ll do what she imagines to be her duty. Women are so uncivilised.
(A burst of cheering is heard. A shrill male voice: “Three cheers for Winston Churchill!” It is followed by an explosion of yells.)
St. Herbert. Who’s that?
Lamb. (He has opened the window.) Phoebe Mogton!
Sigsby. What a family!
(Janet has entered.)
Janet. Is that Mrs. Chilvers? (To Lamb and St. Herbert.) Good evening.
St. Herbert. Good evening.
Lamb. No; it’s her sister.