Philip. I'll expect you,—in half an hour.
Cynthia. [With leaden despair.] Yes.
Philip. And, Cynthia, don't think any more about that fellow, Cates-Darby.
Cynthia. [Amazed and disgusted by his misapprehension.] No. [As Cynthia leaves, Thomas comes in from the opposite door.
Philip. [Not seeing Thomas, and clumsily defiant.] And if I had that fellow, Cates-Darby, in the dock—!
Thomas. Sir Wilfrid Cates-Darby.
Philip. Sir what—what—wh-who? [Sir Wilfrid enters in evening dress. Philip looks Sir Wilfrid in the face and speaks to Thomas.] Tell Sir Wilfrid Cates-Darby I am not at home to him. [Thomas is embarrassed.
Sir Wilfrid. [Undaunted.] My dear Lord Eldon—
Philip. [Again addressing Thomas.] Show the gentleman the door. [There is a pause. Sir Wilfrid, with a significant gesture, glances at the door.
Sir Wilfrid. [Moving to the door, he examines it and returns to Philip.] Eh,—I admire the door, my boy! Fine, old carved mahogany panel; but don't ask me to leave by it, for Mrs. Karslake made me promise I'd come, and that's why I'm here.