Hallo!
CHARTERIS (to Craven). Hope I haven't disturbed your chat by coming
too soon.
CRAVEN. Not at all. Welcome, dear boy. (Shakes his hand.)
CHARTERIS. That's right. I'm earlier than I intended. The fact is, I
have something rather pressing to say to Cuthbertson.
CRAVEN. Private!
CHARTERIS. Not particularly. (To Cuthbertson.) Only what we were
speaking of last night.
CUTHBERTSON. Well, Charteris, I think that is private, or ought to be.
CRAVEN (going up towards the table). I'll just take a look at the
Times--
CHARTERIS (stopping him). Oh, it's no secret: everybody in the club
guesses it. (To Cuthbertson.) Has Grace never mentioned to you that
she wants to marry me?
CUTHBERTSON (indignantly). She has mentioned that you want to marry
her.
CHARTERIS. Ah; but then it's not what I want, but what Grace wants,
that will weigh with you.
CRAVEN (a little shocked). Excuse me Charteris: this is private. I'll
leave you to yourselves. (Again moves towards the table.)
CHARTERIS. Wait a bit, Craven: you're concerned in this. Julia wants
to marry me too.
CRAVEN (in a tone of the strongest remonstrance).
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