CALWAY. [Pale with uncompleted statement, and gravitating insensibly in the direction indicated.] The merest sense of continuity—a simple instinct for order——
HOXTON. [Following.] The only way to get order, sir, is to bring the disorderly up with a round turn. [CALWAY turns to him in the doorway.] You people without practical experience——
CALWAY. If you'll listen to me a minute.
HOXTON. I can show you in a mo——
[They vanish through the door.]
WELLWYN. I was afraid of it.
BERTLEY. The two points of view. Pleasant to see such keenness. I may want you, WELLWYN. And Ann perhaps had better not be present.
WELLWYN. [Relieved.] Quite so! My dear!
[ANN goes reluctantly. WELLWYN opens the street door. The lamp outside has just been lighted, and, by its gleam, is seen the figure of RORY MEGAN, thin, pale, youthful. ANN turning at the door into the house gives him a long, inquisitive look, then goes.]
WELLWYN. Is that Megan?