Sylvia. Shut up, Bobbie, I'm spokesman.
Daniel (weakly). Couldn't it be some one else? Sylvia's so firm with me.
Sylvia. I think, uncle, that you occasionally need firmness. (Coming down R. by Chesterfield.)
Daniel. We all do, it's a weakness of the human race—lack of stamina—I have it at the moment. Please may I sit down?
Oliver. Yes.
Daniel (sinking into arm-chair). Thank you so much. (Weakly.) I begin to feel sleepy. May I have perhaps—a small glass of water?
Bobbie. All right—I'll get it. (He goes to sideboard.)
Daniel. With perhaps the teeniest, weeniest little drop of whisky?
Sylvia. This is all useless prevarication, you know—we have some very important questions to ask you.
Daniel (rising). Perhaps I'd better stand up then, it's more imposing. (He takes water from Bobbie.) Thank you a thousand times. Cheerio!!