COLONEL. [A little taken aback.] Ah! You know, she—she's in a very delicate position, living by herself in London. [LEVER looks at him ironically.] You [very nervously] see a good deal of her? If it had n't been for Joy growing so fast, we shouldn't have had the child down here. Her mother ought to have her with her. Eh! Don't you think so?
LEVER. [Forcing a smile.] Mrs. Gwyn always seems to me to get on all right.
COLONEL. [As though making a discovery.] You know, I've found that when a woman's living alone and unprotected, the very least thing will set a lot of hags and jackanapes talking. [Hotly.] The more unprotected and helpless a woman is, the more they revel in it. If there's anything I hate in this world, it's those wretched creatures who babble about their neighbours' affairs.
LEVER. I agree with you.
COLONEL. One ought to be very careful not to give them—that is—— [checks himself confused; then hurrying on]—I suppose you and Joy get on all right?
LEVER. [Coolly.] Pretty well, thanks. I'm not exactly in Joy's line; have n't seen very much of her, in fact.
[Miss BEECH and JOY have been approaching from the house. But seeing LEVER, JOY turns abruptly, hesitates a moment, and with an angry gesture goes away.]
COLONEL [Unconscious.] Wonderfully affectionate little thing! Well, she'll be going home to-morrow!
MISS BEECH. [Who has been gazing after JOY.] Talkin' business, poor creatures?
LEVER. Oh, no! If you'll excuse me, I'll wash my hands before tea.