I shall be delighted.
Clare.
I’m not surprised you want to get rid of me, pater, if you’re going to talk about your gay youth. You must have been an awful rip.
Dean.
Really, Clare!
Mrs. O’Farrel.
It was my gay youth your father was threatening us with.
Clare.
You must have been a dear then, as now!...
(She kisses Mrs. O’Farrel impulsively, and goes out past Michael. Michael follows her, turns and comes back with a twig of oak in his hand. He gives it to the Dean.)