Mabel.
I don't believe you've written a word of it.
Hilda.
Nonsense, Mabel. I've read it.
Mabel.
Oh, but you're such a monster of discretion.... Now I want to see your medals, Mr. Kent.
Basil.
[Smiling.] What medals?
Mabel.
Don't be coy! You know I mean the medals they gave you for going to the Cape.