Car. No. Go into the garden.
Dor. Of course! Stupid of me! (he tries the door)
Car. Make haste.
Dor. Can't get the beastly door open. Something's wrong with the key.
Car. You'll be too late! (advances towards him)
Dor. Here! (opens door) What's this? Ah, the broom cupboard, any port in a storm! (goes in; Cook shuts door and stands there for a moment)
(Miss Pillenger enters.)
Miss P. Cook, I remembered I hadn't ordered to-morrow's breakfast. (crosses and sits R. of table)
Car. No. What would you like? (crosses to top of table)