The best of ’em! [Enid shakes hands with Lady Wargrave.] Ah, what a pity, what a pity, Sylvester!
SYLVESTER.
What is a pity, Colonel?
COLONEL.
That such a figure should be wasted!
SYLVESTER [in a matter of course voice].
I prefer Mrs. Cazenove’s.
[Turns off. Colonel eyes him curiously. The other Guests should be so arranged that each man is surrounded by a little group of women.
PERCY [the centre of one group, lolling lazily, always smiling with self-complacency, suddenly sits up and shivers].