Charteris, almost trapped in it,
crosses to the right hand recess by way of the fender, knocking down
the fire irons with a crash as he does so.)
CRAVEN (who has crossed to the whirling bookcase and stopped it). What
the dickens are you doing there, Charteris?
CHARTERIS. Nothing. It's such a confounded room to get about in.
JULIA (maliciously). Yes, isn't it. (She is moving back to guard the
right hand door, when Cuthbertson appears at it.)
CUTHBERTSON. May I take you down? (He offers her his arm.)
JULIA. No, really: you know it's against the rules of the club to
coddle women in any way. Whoever is nearest to the door goes first.
CUTHBERTSON. Oh well, if you insist. Come, gentlemen: let us go to
lunch in the Ibsen fashion--the unsexed fashion. (He goes out on the
left followed by Paramore, laughing. Craven goes last. He turns at the
door to see whether Julia is coming, and stops when he sees she is
not.)
CRAVEN. Come, Julia.
JULIA (with patronising affection). Yes, Daddy, dear, presently.
(Charteris is meanwhile stealing to the right hand door.) Don't wait
for me: I'll come in a moment.
Pages:
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70