JOAN. He went out with Studdenham.
DOT. It's always like this, women kept in blinkers. Rose-leaves and humbug! That awful old man!
JOAN. Dot!
CHRISTINE. Don't talk of father like that!
DOT. Well, he is! And Bill will be just like him at fifty! Heaven help Freda, whatever she's done! I'd sooner be a private in a German regiment than a woman.
JOAN. Dot, you're awful.
DOT. You-mouse-hearted-linnet!
CHRISTINE. Don't talk that nonsense about women!
DOT. You're married and out of it; and Ronny's not one of these terrific John Bulls. [To JOAN who has opened the door] Looking for John? No good, my dear; lath and plaster.
JOAN. [From the door, in a frightened whisper] Here's Mabel!