Bea. Men may—but women, never. Do they, Sir Peter?
Sir P. I never offer an opinion on matters I don’t understand—(lifting his forefinger)—unless, mark, they are strictly medical. Love has no place in the British pharmacopæa. (goes down R. of table, Beatrice L. of it. She shows him some photographic views)
Phil. Yet it exists. I have even known cases of love at sight.
Nor. Love at sight! Now you’re going too far for anything. I can imagine an enthusiast believing even in love, but love at sight! (rises) No, my dear Phil, that’s too ridicu—— (a tennis ball comes flying in from the grounds, rolling down to L. corner; Normantower picks it up and gets L.C.)
Kate runs in after the ball, C. from R., she has a tennis bat in her hand, and comes down C.
Kate. (speaking off, as she enters) Stay where you are! I’ll get it for you, children! (stops) Has anybody seen—— Oh! there it is! (seeing it in Normantower’s hand)
Nor. Allow me—— (goes to C. and gives it to Kate)
Kate. Thank you, very much. (running out) Here you are! Catch! (throwing ball off R. Exit Kate; Normantower turns up C., and stands gazing after her; pause. Philip rises and goes L.)
Nor. (to Philip) Who is that lady? (comes down C. to sofa)