Mrs. H. Don’t be foolish, Jill.

Jill.  Look at the old brute!  Dodo, hold my hand.

Mrs. H. Make sure you’ve got a handkerchief, Jack.

Hillcrist. I can’t go beyond the six thousand; I shall have to raise every penny on mortgage as it is.  The estate simply won’t stand more, Amy.

     [He feels in his breast pocket, and pulls up the edge of his
     handkerchief.]

Jill.  Oh!  Look!  There’s Miss Mullins, at the back; just come in. 
Isn’t she a spidery old chip?

Mrs. H. Come to gloat.  Really, I think her not accepting your offer is disgusting.  Her impartiality is all humbug.

Hillcrist. Can’t blame her for getting what she can—­it’s human nature.  Phew!  I used to feel like this before a ‘viva voce’.  Who’s that next to Dawker?

Jill.  What a fish!

Mrs. H. [To herself] Ah! yes.

     [Her eyes slide round at Chloe, silting motionless and rather
     sunk in her seat, slowly fanning herself with they particulars
     of the sale.  Jack, go and offer her my smelling salts.]

Hillcrist. [Taking the salts] Thank God for a human touch!

Mrs. H. [Taken aback] Oh!

Jill. [With a quick look at her mother, snatching the salts] I will. [She goes over to Chloe with the salts] Have a sniff; you look awfully white.

Chloe. [Looking up, startled] Oh! no thanks.  I’m all right.

Jill.  No, do!  You must. [Chloe takes them.]

Jill.  D’you mind letting me see that a minute?

     [She takes the particulars of the sale and studies it, but
     Chloe has buried the lower part of her face in her hand and the
     smelling salts bottle.]

Beastly hot, isn’t it?  You’d better keep that.

Chloe. [Her dark eyes wandering and uneasy] Rolf’s getting me some water.

Jill.  Why do you stay?  You didn’t want to come, did you?

     [Chloe shakes her head.]

All right!  Here’s your water.

     [She hands back the particulars and slides over to her seat,
     passing Rolf in the gangway, with her chin well up.]

     [Mrs. Hillcrist, who has watched Chloe and Jill and Dawker, and
     his friend, makes an enquiring movement with her hand, but gets
     a disappointing answer.]

Jill.  What’s the time, Dodo?

Hillcrist. [Looking at his watch] Three minutes past.

Jill. [Sighing] Oh, hell!

Hillcrist. Jill!

Jill.  Sorry, Dodo.  I was only thinking.  Look!  Here he is! 
Phew!—­isn’t he——?

Mrs. H.  ’Sh!