The young man looks at Mrs builder and winces, but recovers himself.

Guy. [Boldly] As a matter of fact this is my sister’s studio; she’s in
France—­and has a friend staying here.

Builder.  Oh!  And you have a key?

Guy.  My sister’s.

Builder.  Does your sister shave?

Guy.  I—­I don’t think so.

Builder.  No.  Then perhaps you’ll tell me what these mean? [He takes out the strop and shaving stick].

Guy.  Oh!  Ah!  Those things?

Builder.  Yes.  Now then?

Guy. [Addressing Mrs builder] Need we go into this in your presence, ma’am?  It seems rather delicate.

Builder.  What explanation have you got?

Guy.  Well, you see—­

Builder.  No lies; out with it!

Guy. [With decision] I prefer to say nothing.

Builder.  What’s your name?

Guy.  Guy Herringhame.

Builder.  Do you live here?

     Guy makes no sign.

Mrs builder. [To Guy] I think you had better go.

Builder.  Julia, will you leave me to manage this?

Mrs builder. [To Guy] When do you expect my daughter in?

Guy.  Now—­directly.

Mrs builder. [Quietly] Are you married to her?

Guy.  Yes.  That is—­no—­o; not altogether, I mean.

Builder.  What’s that?  Say that again!

Guy. [Folding his arms] I’m not going to say another word.

Builder.  I am.

Mrs builder.  John—­please!

Builder.  Don’t put your oar in!  I’ve had wonderful patience so far. [He puts his boot through a drawing] Art!  This is what comes of it!  Are you an artist?

Guy.  No; a flying man.  The truth is—­

Builder.  I don’t want to hear you speak the truth.  I’ll wait for my daughter.

Guy.  If you do, I hope you’ll be so very good as to be gentle.  If you get angry I might too, and that would be awfully ugly.

Builder.  Well, I’m damned!

Guy.  I quite understand that, sir.  But, as a man of the world, I hope you’ll take a pull before she comes, if you mean to stay.

Builder.  If we mean to stay!  That’s good!

Guy.  Will you have a cigarette?

Builder.  I—­I can’t express—­

Guy. [Soothingly] Don’t try, sir. [He jerks up his chin, listening] I think that’s her. [Goes to the door] Yes.  Now, please! [He opens the door] Your father and mother, Athene.

Athene enters.  She is flushed and graceful.  Twenty-two, with a short upper lip, a straight nose, dark hair, and glowing eyes.  She wears bright colours, and has a slow, musical voice, with a slight lisp.