Nearly full.... When!... And you had better take something as well—to fortify yourself against what I am going to say.
Dean.
Ah.... A little soda-water. (Helps himself.) So you are going to be unpleasant, my dear Eileen?
Mrs. O’Farrel.
I am. Those two had been quarrelling just now.
Dean.
That was evident—even to me.
Mrs. O’Farrel.
They had been quarrelling bitterly—and I can make a shrewd guess at the cause.