Merton. I hope so—I want it most dreadfully.
Kirstin [surprised]. Do you?
Merton. I have hardly any—that's one of my difficulties.
Kirstin. What a pity.
Merton. Oh, well, it'll come all right, I daresay, when I'm back in London and can start work.
Kirstin [looking at paper]. When you're back at 147 Devonshire Street—
[Enter Thwaite. Kirstin puts the paper back in her pocket].
Thwaite. Kirstin, the black ewe's missing.
Kirstin [quietly]. What, again? I'll go and seek her.
Thwaite. You had better. Well, Mr Merton, I suppose you'll just be about starting? [Evidently waiting for Merton to leave].