Tom. (turns to Kate, his mouth full of apple) There, Miss Derwent! What do you say to that? (turns to Mildred)
Kate. That is one side of the picture, but I’ve seen the other. My mother also married for love.
Phil. And what was the consequence?
Kate. That her daughter will never marry.
Bea. (softly) Don’t say that, Miss Derwent. (all start slightly, Kate rises, and sits again almost immediately, still filling bowl with flowers) You are always severe on the gentlemen, but don’t be so hard on them as that.
Phil. Good gracious, Mousey, how you startled me! Your footsteps are so fairy-like, one never knows where you are.
Bea. Moral: never tell secrets to Miss Derwent, when you think I’m not listening.
Phil. My dear, it’s no secret that I have the best wife in the world.
Tom. Everybody thinks that, Mrs. Selwyn. (going up C. towards her)
Bea. (goes to Tom, C.) Not everybody. To wit—Sir Peter Lund.