PRESS. Miss Stokes, as a lady——!
MISS S. I shall go and fetch Lord William!
POULDER. We will all go, Miss.
L. ANNE. [Rushing out from behind his legs] No—me!
[She eludes MISS STOKES and vanishes, followed by that distracted but still well-mannered lady.]
POULDER. [Looking at his watch] 'Enry, leave the cooler, and take up the wine; tell Thomas to lay it out; get the champagne into ice, and 'ave Charles 'andy in the 'all in case some literary bounder comes punctual.
[HENRY takes up the wine and goes.]
PRESS. [Above his head] I say, let me down. This is a bit undignified, you know. My paper's a great organ.
POULDER. [After a moment's hesitation] Well—take 'im down, James; he'll do some mischief among the bottles.
JAMES. 'Op off your base, and trust to me.