Page boy (calling monotonously as before).  Mr. Cuthbertson, Mr. Cuthbertson, Mr. Cuth—­

Cuthbertson.  Here, boy. (He takes a card from the salver.) Bring the gentleman up here. (The boy goes out.) It’s Craven.  He’s coming to lunch with me and Charteris.  You might join us if you’ve nothing better to do, when you’ve finished with the instrument man.  If Julia turns up I’ll ask her too.

Paramore (flushing with pleasure).  I shall be very happy.  Thank you.  (He is going out at the right hand door when Craven enters.) Good morning, Colonel Craven.

Craven (at the door).  Good morning—­glad to see you.  I’m looking for Cuthbertson.

Paramore (smiling).  There he is. (He goes out.)

Cuthbertson (greeting Craven effusively).  Delighted to see you.  Now will you come to the smoking room, or will you sit down here and have a chat while we’re waiting for Charteris.  If you like company, the smoking room is always full of women.  Here we shall have it pretty well all to ourselves until about three o’clock.

Craven.  I don’t like to see women smoking.  I’ll make myself comfortable here. (Sits in an easy chair on the right.)

Cuthbertson (taking a chair beside him, on his left).  Neither do I. There’s not a room in this club where I can enjoy a pipe quietly without a woman coming in and beginning to roll a cigarette.  It’s a disgusting habit in a woman:  it’s not natural to her sex.

Craven (sighing).  Ah, Jo, times have changed since we both courted Molly Ebden all those years ago.  I took my defeat well, old chap, didn’t I?

Cuthbertson (with earnest approval).  You did, Dan.  The thought of it has often helped me to behave well myself:  it has, on my honour.

Craven.  Yes, you always believe in hearth and home, Jo—­in a true English wife and a happy wholesome fireside.  How did Molly turn out?

Cuthbertson (trying to be fair to Molly).  Well, not bad.  She might have been worse.  You see I couldn’t stand her relations:  all the men were roaring cads; and she couldn’t get on with my mother.  And then she hated being in town; and of course I couldn’t live in the country on account of my work.  But we hit it off as well as most people, until we separated.

Craven (taken aback).  Separated! (He is irresistibly amused.) Oh, that was the end of the hearth and home, Jo, was it?

Cuthbertson (warmly).  It was not my fault, Dan. (Sentimentally.) Some day the world will know how I loved that woman.  But she was incapable of valuing a true man’s affection.  Do you know, she often said she wished she’d married you instead.

Craven (sobered by the suggestion).  Dear me, dear me!  Well, perhaps it was better as it was.  You heard about my marriage, I suppose.

Cuthbertson.  Oh yes:  we all heard of it.