Miss Carston. Sit still, darling—Marky, don’t scratch—Peggy, lie down—hurt mother’s leg-leg—naughts, naughts—oh, Peggy! (To Mr. Maitland.) She’s been like this ever since she was born. Oh, Mr. Maitland, would you open the door? I think Marky wants to go out. I am so sorry: if I were up this wouldn’t happen. (In a loud voice to Marcus:) “Marky, walkie, walkie!”
(Mr. Maitland opens the door. Peggy bolts out, Marcus walks out slowly, and Dinah slithers in.)
Miss Carston. Mother’s lamb—such a darling—beauts-beauts—good-good—gal-gal—get up gently—clev-clev—never steps on mother’s leg—lambkin—saint—look at mother—sweet-sweets—booful eyes! (To Mr. Maitland.) Isn’t she a darling?
Mr. Maitland (ignoring the question). What did Diana say?
Miss Carston. There’s Marky man; coming, darling. Let him in, please, Mr. Maitland—he’s not haps-haps without his mother. Coming, darling!
(Mr. Maitland opens the door.)
Miss Carston. Leave it open, please, then they can come in as they like—it will be less trouble.
(Mr. Maitland leaves the door open, returns to the armchair, sits down.)
Mr. Maitland. What did Diana say?
(In rush all the dogs.)