Paramore (transported).  You have called me Percy!  Hurrah! (Charteris and Craven come in.  Paramore hastens to meet them, beaming.) Delighted to see you here with me, Colonel Craven.  And you, too, Charteris.  Sit down. (The Colonel sits down on the end of the couch.) Where are the others?

Charteris.  Sylvia has dragged Cuthbertson off into the Burlington Arcade to buy some caramels.  He likes to encourage her in eating caramels:  he thinks it’s a womanly taste.  Besides, he likes them himself.  They’ll be here presently. (He strolls across to the cabinet and pretends to study the Rembrandt photograph, so as to be as far out of Julia’s reach as possible.)

Craven.  Yes; and Charteris has been trying to persuade me that there’s a short cut between Cork Street and Savile Row somewhere in Conduit Street.  Now did you ever hear such nonsense?  Then he said my coat was getting shabby, and wanted me to go into Poole’s and order a new one.  Paramore:  is my coat shabby?

Paramore.  Not that I can see.

Craven.  I should think not.  Then he wanted to draw me into a dispute about the Egyptian war.  We should have been here quarter of an hour ago only for his nonsense.

Charteris (still contemplating Rembrandt).  I did my best to keep him from disturbing you, Paramore.

Paramore (gratefully).  You have come in the nick of time.  Colonel Craven:  I have something very particular to say to you.

Craven (springing up in alarm).  In private, Paramore:  now really it must be in private.

Paramore (surprised).  Of course.  I was about to suggest my consulting room:  there’s nobody there.  Miss Craven:  will you excuse me:  Charteris will entertain you until I return. (He leads the way to the green baize door.)

Charteris (aghast).  Oh, I say, hadn’t you better wait until the others come?

Paramore (exultant).  No need for further delay now, my best friend.  (He wrings Charteris’s hand.) Will you come, Colonel?

Craven.  At your service, Paramore:  at your service. (Craven and Paramore go into the consulting room.  Julia turns her head and stares insolently at Charteris.  His nerves play him false:  he is completely out of countenance in a moment.  She rises suddenly.  He starts, and comes hastily forward between the table and the bookcase.  She crosses to that side behind the table; and he immediately crosses to the opposite side in front of it, dodging her.)

Charteris (nervously).  Don’t, Julia.  Now don’t abuse your advantage.  You’ve got me here at your mercy.  Be good for once; and don’t make a scene.

Julia (contemptuously).  Do you suppose I am going to touch you?

Charteris.  No.  Of course not. (She comes forward on her side of the table.  He retreats on his side of it.  She looks at him with utter scorn; sweeps across to the couch; and sits down imperially.  With a great sigh of relief he drops into Paramore’s chair.)