His G. Where’s Anne?

Lady W. In bed, of course.

His G. I got her this—­rather nice?

     [He has taken from his breast-pocket one of those street toy-men
     that jump head over heels on your hand; he puts it through its
     paces.]

Lady W. [Much interested] Oh! no, but how sweet!  She’ll simply love it.

Poulder.  If I might suggest to Your Grace to take it in and operate it.  It’s sweated, Your Grace.  They-er-make them in those places.

His G. By Jove!  D’you know the price, Poulder?

Poulder. [Interrogatively] A penny, is it?  Something paltry, Your
Grace!

His G. Where’s that woman who knows everything; Miss Munday?

Lady W. Oh!  She’ll be in there, somewhere.

     [His grace moves on, and passes through the doors.  The sound of
     applause is heard.]

Poulder. [Discreetly] would you care to see the bomb, my lady?

Lady W. Of course—­first quiet moment.

Poulder.  I’ll bring it up, and have a watch put on it here, my lady.

     [Lord William comes through the double doom followed by James. 
     Poulder retires.]

Lord W. Can’t you come, Nell?

Lady W. Oh!  Bill, your Dad wants to speak.

Lord W. The deuce he does—­that’s bad.

Lady W. Yes, of course, but you must let him; he’s found something he said in 1914.

Lord W. I knew it.  That’s what they’ll say.  Standing stock still, while hell’s on the jump around us.

Lady W. Never mind that; it’ll please him; and he’s got a lovely little sweated toy that turns head over heels at one penny.

Lord W. H’m!  Well, come on.

Lady W. No, I must wait for stragglers.  There’s sure to be an editor in a hurry.

Poulder. [Announcing] Mis-ter Gold-rum!

Lady W. [Sotto voce] And there he is! [She advances to meet a thin, straggling man in eyeglasses, who is smiling absently] How good of you!

Mr. G. Thanks awfully.  I just er—­and then I’m afraid I must—­er—­ Things look very——­Thanks——­Thanks so much.

     [He straggles through the doors, and is enclosed by James.]

Poulder.  Miss Mun-day.

Lord W. There!  I thought she was in—­She really is the most unexpected woman!  How do you do?  How awfully sweet of you!

Miss M. [An elderly female schoolboy] How do you do?  There’s a spiffing crowd.  I believe things are really going Bolshy.  How do you do, Lord William?  Have you got any of our people to show?  I told one or two, in case—­they do so simply love an outing.

James.  There are three old chips in the lobby, my Lord.