MRS. H. Can Dawker see you there, Jack?
[HILLCRIST nods.]
What's the time?
HILLCRIST. Three minutes to three.
JILL. Don't you feel beastly all down the backs of your legs.
Dodo?
HILLCRIST. Yes.
JILL. Do you, mother?
MRS. H. No.
JILL. A wagon of old Hornblower's pots passed while we were in the yard. It's an omen.
MRS. H. Don't be foolish, Jill.