THE SQUIRE. All right, Ella; all right! He doesn't mean what you mean!
LADY ELLA. [Transferring EDWARD to THE SQUIRE] Hold him, Tommy. He's sure to smell out Hannibal!
THE SQUIRE. [Taking EDWARD by the collar, and holding his own nose] Jove! Clever if he can smell anything but himself. Phew! She ought to have the Victoria Cross for goin' in that pond.
[The door opens, and HERSELF appears; a fine, frank, handsome woman, in a man's orange-coloured motor-coat, hastily thrown on over the substrata of costume.]
SHE. So very sorry—had to have a bath, and change, of course!
LADY ELLA. We're so awfully grateful to you. It was splendid.
MAUD. Quite.
THE RECTOR. [Rather holding himself together] Heroic! I was just myself about to——
THE SQUIRE. [Restraining EDWARD] Little beast will fight—must apologise—you were too quick for me——
[He looks up at her. She is smiling, and regarding the wounded dog, her head benevolently on one side.]