Part 33

(He goes out.)

LAMB. Yes. (To ST. HERBERT.) Are you coming?

ST. HERBERT. Hardly worth while; nearly over, isn’t it?

LAMB. It generally takes an hour and a half. (He looks at his watch.) Another forty minutes. Perhaps less.

(He goes out.)

PHOEBE. I do love to make him ratty. Wish it wasn’t poor old Geoff we were fighting.

ST. HERBERT. When I marry, it will be the womanly woman.

PHOEBE. No chance for me then?

ST. HERBERT. I don’t say that. I can see you taking your political opinions from your husband, and thinking them your own.

PHOEBE. Good heavens!

ST. HERBERT. The brainy woman will think for herself. And then I foresee some lively breakfast tables.

PHOEBE. Humph! No fear, I suppose, of a man taking his views from his wife and thinking them his own?

ST. HERBERT. That may be the solution. The brainy woman will have to marry the manly man.

(GINGER enters.)

JAWBONES. (He is on his knees blowing the fire. In a low growl.) Shut the door!

GINGER. Can’t till I’m inside, can I? (Shuts it.) Where’s Lady Mogton?

JAWBONES. I don’t know.

PHOEBE. What do you want her for?

GINGER. Only to tell her that I can’t find Chilvers.

PHOEBE. Isn’t she here?

GINGER. Not unless she’s come while I’ve been out.

(JANET enters.)

JANET. Oh, Lady Mogton—

PHOEBE. (Interrupting her.) Isn’t Annys here?

JANET. No. (To GINGER.) Haven’t you found her?

GINGER. (Shakes her head.) Been everywhere I could think of.

PHOEBE. (To herself.) She couldn’t have gone home? Is there a telephone here?

JANET. The room’s locked up.