Isn't that rather cruel--a pack of dogs
ripping up a fox?
JULIA (coming coaxingly between them). Oh, please don't begin arguing
again. Do go to the smoking room, Daddy: Mr. Cuthbertson will wonder
what has become of you.
CRAVEN. Very well, very well: I'll go. But you're really not
reasonable to-day, Paramore, to talk that way of fair sport--
JULIA. Sh--sh (coaxing him toward the door).
CRAVEN. Well, well, I'm off. (He goes good-humoredly, pushed out by
Julia.)
JULIA (turning at the door with her utmost witchery of manner). Don't
look so disappointed, Dr. Paramore. Cheer up. You've been most kind to
us; and you've done papa a lot of good.
PARAMORE (delighted, rushing over to her). How beautiful it is of you
to say that to me, Miss Craven!
JULIA. I hate to see any one unhappy. I can't bear unhappiness. (She
runs out, casting a Parthian glance at him as she flies. Paramore
stands enraptured, gazing after her through the glass door. Whilst he
is thus absorbed Charteris comes in from the dining room and touches
him on the arm.)
PARAMORE (starting). Eh! What's the matter?
CHARTERIS (significantly).
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