Bea. Sir Peter!
Sir P. Sleep too much.
Kate. Sir Peter!
Sir P. (turning on the ladies) So do you!
Bea. (turning to Kate) Oh! (Tom and Mildred steal off into the grounds, C. to R.)
Sir P. Of course you do. Everybody does. (watch) What time’s the next up train?
Phil. You’re not thinking of going already?
Sir P. Certainly not. Not going for ten minutes.
Bea. Surely you’ll stay to lunch?
Sir P. Lunch, what d’you want with lunch? If you’ve an appetite for dinner, thank heaven for it, and don’t go and spoil it with lunch.