Philip. [With a nervous laugh.] It does seem to me there is a certain impropriety—
Cynthia. [Remembering the conventions, which, for a moment, had actually escaped her.] Oh, I forgot. When horses are in the air—
Matthew. [Pouring oil on troubled waters. Moving, he speaks to Vida from the back of her armchair.] It's the fourth gospel, you see. [Thomas comes in with a letter on a salver, which he hands to Philip.
Cynthia. [Meekly.] You are quite right, Philip. [Philip goes up.] The fact is, seeing Mr. Karslake again [Laying on her indifference with a trowel.] he seems to me as much a stranger as if I were meeting him for the first time.
Matthew. [Aside to Vida.] We are indeed taking tea on the slope of a volcano.
Vida. [About to go, but thinking she will have a last word with John.] I'm sorry your fortunes are so depressed, Mr. Karslake.
Philip. [Looking at the card that Thomas has just brought in.] Who in the world is Sir Wilfrid Cates-Darby?
[There is a general stir.
John. Oh—eh—Cates-Darby? [Philip opens the letter which Thomas has brought with the card.] That's the English chap I bought Pantomime of.
Philip. [To Thomas.] Show Sir Wilfrid Cates-Darby in.