Then seeing that his mother has came in from the billiard-room,
he sits down at the writing-table.
LADY CHESHIRE. Mabel, dear, do take my cue. Won't you play too,
Bill, and try and stop Ronny, he's too terrible?
BILL. Thanks. I've got these letters.
MABEL taking the cue passes back into the billiard-room, whence comes out the sound of talk and laughter.
LADY CHESHIRE. [Going over and standing behind her son's chair]
Anything wrong, darling?
BILL. Nothing, thanks. [Suddenly] I say, I wish you hadn't asked that girl here.
LADY CHESHIRE. Mabel! Why? She's wanted for rehearsals. I thought you got on so well with her last Christmas.
BILL. [With a sort of sullen exasperation.] A year ago.
LADY CHESHIRE. The girls like her, so does your father; personally I must say I think she's rather nice and Irish.
BILL. She's all right, I daresay.