Penelope.
But, my dear, it’s so simple. Of course, he’s in a dreadful temper. I’ve made him feel a perfect fool, and he hates it. But, good heavens! after five years I know how to deal with him when I’ve hurt his pride. I’ll just give him a chance of saving his face, and then we’ll fall into one another’s arms and be happy ever afterwards.
[Golightly, who has been sitting near a table, draws a sheet of paper towards him and begins, meditatively, to write.
Mrs. Golightly.
But, darling, don’t waste the precious hours, do it at once.
Penelope.
No, I’m wiser than that. I’m not going to do anything till Ada Fergusson is quite disposed of.
Mrs. Golightly.
Has anything been seen of her?
Penelope.