John. Just wait a moment.
[John rushes out, leaving the door open.
Cynthia. I don't want more than a nibble! [After a pause.] I am sorry to give you so much trouble.
John. No trouble at all. [From the dining-room comes the cheerful noise of glasses and silver.] A hansom, of course, to take you round to your hotel? [Speaking as he returns with a tray.
Cynthia. [To herself.] I wonder how I ever dreamed I could marry that man.
John. [Now by the table.] Can't imagine! There!
Cynthia. I am hungry. Don't forget the hansom.
[She eats; he waits on her, setting this and that before her.
John. [Goes to the door, opens it and calls.] Nogam, a hansom at once.
Nogam. [From without.] Yes, sir.