She returns from the window, and seeing her mother lost in thought, rubs herself against her.
OLIVE. Have you got an ache?
KATHARINE. Right through me, darling!
OLIVE. Oh!
[The musicians strike up a dance.]
OLIVE. Oh! Mummy! I must just dance!
She kicks off her lisle blue shoes, and begins dancing. While she is capering HUBERT comes in from the hall. He stands watching his little niece for a minute, and KATHERINE looks at him.
HUBERT. Stephen gone!
KATHERINE. Yes—stop, Olive!
OLIVE. Are you good at my sort of dancing, Uncle?