[Her eyes go back to LEVER'S face as though to stab him.]
ERNEST. [From the swing.] I say, you know, the glass is going down.
LEVER. [Suavely.] The glass in the hall's steady enough.
ERNEST. Oh, I never go by that; that's a rotten old glass.
COLONEL. Oh! is it?
ERNEST. [Paying no attention.] I've got a little ripper—never puts you in the cart. Bet you what you like we have thunder before tomorrow night.
MISS BEECH. [Removing her gaze from JOY to LEVER.] You don't think we shall have it before to-night, do you?
LEVER. [Suavely.] I beg your pardon; did you speak to me?
MISS BEECH. I said, you don't think we shall have the thunder before to-night, do you?
[She resumes her watch on joy.]