Arthur.

Her health is perfect.

Christina.

At her age one's always well, I suppose. [Kissing Anne.] How d'you do? And how are you, my poor Arthur?

Arthur.

You ask me as though I was a doddering old gentleman, crippled with rheumatism. I'm in the best of health, thank you very much, and very active for my years. [Christina has seen a flower on the table that has fallen from a bowl, and picks it up and puts it back in its place.] Why do you do that?

Christina.

I don't like untidiness.

Arthur.

I do.