LADY CHESHIRE. Rose Taylor? Ask her to come in. Oh! and Jackson the car for the meet please at half-past ten.
JACKSON having bowed and withdrawn, LADY CHESHIRE rises with worked signs of nervousness, which she has only just suppressed, when ROSE TAYLOR, a stolid country girl, comes in and stands waiting by the door.
LADY CHESHIRE. Well, Rose. Do come in!
[ROSE advances perhaps a couple of steps.]
LADY CHESHIRE. I just wondered whether you'd like to ask my advice.
Your engagement with Dunning's broken off, isn't it?
ROSE. Yes—but I've told him he's got to marry me.
LADY CHESHIRE. I see! And you think that'll be the wisest thing?
ROSE. [Stolidly] I don't know, my lady. He's got to.
LADY CHESHIRE. I do hope you're a little fond of him still.
ROSE. I'm not. He don't deserve it.
LADY CHESHIRE: And—do you think he's quite lost his affection for you?