[Stolidly] I'm sorry.
Then seeing that his mother has came in from the billiard-room,
he sits down at the writing-table.
LADY CHESHIRE. Mabel, dear, do take my cue. Won't you play too,
Bill, and try and stop Ronny, he's too terrible?
BILL. Thanks. I've got these letters.
MABEL taking the cue passes back into the billiard-room, whence comes
out the sound of talk and laughter.
LADY CHESHIRE. [Going over and standing behind her son's chair]
Anything wrong, darling?
BILL. Nothing, thanks. [Suddenly] I say, I wish you hadn't asked
that girl here.
LADY CHESHIRE. Mabel! Why? She's wanted for rehearsals. I thought
you got on so well with her last Christmas.
BILL. [With a sort of sullen exasperation.] A year ago.
LADY CHESHIRE. The girls like her, so does your father; personally I
must say I think she's rather nice and Irish.
BILL. She's all right, I daresay.
He looks round as if to show his mother that he wishes to be
left alone. But LADY CHESHIRE, having seen that he is about to
look at her, is not looking at him.
LADY CHESHIRE. I'm afraid your father's been talking to you, Bill.
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