MRS BUILDER. John! Don't! [Getting between him and the kitchen door] It's not dignified.
BUILDER. I don't care a damn.
MRS BUILDER. John, you mustn't. Athene has the tiny beginning of a moustache, you know.
BUILDER. What! I shall stay and clear this up if I have to wait a week. Men who let their daughters—! This age is the limit. [He makes a vicious movement with the strop, as though laying it across someone's back.]
MRS BUILDER. She would never stand that. Even wives object, nowadays.
BUILDER. [Grimly] The war's upset everything. Women are utterly out of hand. Why the deuce doesn't she come?
MRS BUILDER. Suppose you leave me here to see her.
BUILDER. [Ominously] This is my job.
MRS BUILDER. I think it's more mine.
BUILDER. Don't stand there opposing everything I say! I'll go and have another look—[He is going towards the bedroom when the sound of a latchkey in the outer door arrests him. He puts the strop and brush behind his back, and adds in a low voice] Here she is!