The fireplace is
on the left. At the nearest corner of it a couch is
placed at right angles to the wall, settlewise. On the
right the wall is occupied by a bookcase, further
forward than the green baize door. Beyond the door is a
cabinet of anatomical preparations, with a framed
photograph of Rembrandt's School of Anatomy hanging on
the wall above it. In front, a little to the right, a
tea-table.
Paramore is seated in a round-backed chair, on castors,
pouring out tea. Julia sits opposite him, with her back
to the fire. He is in high spirits: she very downcast.
PARAMORE (handing her the cup he has just filled). There! Making tea
is one of the few things I consider myself able to do thoroughly well.
Cake?
JULIA. No, thank you. I don't like sweet things. (She sets down the
cup untasted.)
PARAMORE. Anything wrong with the tea?
JULIA. No, it's very nice.
PARAMORE. I'm afraid I'm a very bad entertainer. The fact is, I'm too
professional. I only shine in consultation. I almost wish you had
something the matter with you; so that you might call out my knowledge
and sympathy. As it is, I can only admire you, and feel how pleasant
it is to have you here.
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