Bill.
I say, what an awfully clever woman you are!
Lady Patricia.
Am I?... I wonder!
Mrs. O’Farrel.
Clever at writing verses, Patricia. But prose fiction’s not in your line. (Patricia smiles pityingly and examines her rings.) Bill we must be off. There’s barely time to dress, and some people are dining with us to-night.
Bill.
All right, mother. (He goes to Clare.) I say, Miss Lesley, when last we met you had long hair.
Clare.
(Gravely.) I still have long hair, Mr. O’Farrel.