Oh, he’s the son of Colonel Hornby. Don’t you know, he lives at the top of Molyneux Park. His mother was a great friend of Miss Wickham’s. He comes down here now and then for week-ends. He’s got something to do with motor-cars.
[Kate shows the visitor in.]
Kate.
Mr. Hornby.
[She goes out. Reginald Hornby is a good-looking young man, with a neat head on a long, elegant body. His dark, sleek hair is carefully brushed, his small moustache is trim and curled. His beautiful clothes suggest the fashionable tailors of Savile Row. His tie, his handkerchief protruding from the breast pocket, his boots, are the very latest thing. He is a nut.]
Hornby.
I say, I’m awfully sorry to blow in like this. But I didn’t know if you’d be staying on here, and I wanted to catch you. And I’m off in a day or two, myself.
Norah.
Won’t you sit down? Mr. Hornby—Miss Pringle.
Hornby.