LATTER. Well, I must say, Ronny—of all the rude boors——[He turns towards the billiard-room.]
KEITH. Sorry I smashed the glass, old chap.
LATTER passes out. There comes a mingled sound through the opened door, of female voices, laughter, and the click of billiard balls, dipped of by the sudden closing of the door.
KEITH. [Impersonally] Deuced odd, the way a parson puts one's back up! Because you know I agree with him really; young Dunning ought to play the game; and I hope Sir William'll make him.
The butler JACKSON has entered from the door under the stairs followed by the keeper STUDDENHAM, a man between fifty and sixty, in a full-skirted coat with big pockets, cord breeches, and gaiters; he has a steady self respecting weathered face, with blue eyes and a short grey beard, which has obviously once been red.
KEITH. Hullo! Studdenham!
STUDDENHAM. [Touching his forehead] Evenin', Captain Keith.
JACKSON. Sir William still in the dining-room with Mr. Bill, sir?
HAROLD. [With a grimace] He is, Jackson.
JACKSON goes out to the dining-room.