COLONEL. ‘As for this little tantrum of locking herself into her room, however, we must have it out with her.’ ALICE. ‘The first thing to-morrow.’ COLONEL. ‘Not a bit of it. The first thing the moment we get home.’ ALICE, now up against a new danger, ‘You forget, dear, that she has gone to bed.’ COLONEL. ‘We’ll soon rout her out of bed.’ ALICE. ‘Robert! You forget that she has locked the door.’ COLONEL. ‘Sulky little darling. I daresay she is crying her eyes out for you already. But if she doesn’t open that door pretty smartly I’ll force it.’ ALICE. ‘You wouldn’t do that?’ COLONEL. ‘Wouldn’t I? Oh yes, I would.’ Thus Alice has another problem to meet when Steve returns from his successful quest for a cab. ‘Thank you, Steve, you will excuse us running off, I know. Alice is all nerves to-night. Come along, dear.’ ALICE, signing to the puzzled Steve that he must somehow get the lady out of the house at once, ‘There is no such dreadful hurry, is there?’ She is suddenly interested in some photographs on the wall. ‘Are you in this group, Steve?’ STEVE. ‘Yes, it is an old school eleven.’ ALICE. ‘Let us see if we can pick Steve out, Robert.’ COLONEL. ‘Here he is, the one with the ball.’ ALICE. ‘Oh no, that can’t be Steve, surely. Isn’t this one more like him? Come over here under the light.’ Steve has his moment at the door, but it is evident from his face that the hidden one scorns his blandishments. So he signs to Alice. COLONEL. ‘This is you, isn’t it, Steve?’ STEVE. ‘Yes, the one with the ball.’ COLONEL. ‘I found you at once. Now, Alice, your cloak.’ ALICE. ‘I feel so comfy where I am. One does hate to leave a fire, doesn’t one.’ She hums gaily a snatch of a song. COLONEL. ‘The woman doesn’t know her own mind.’ ALICE. ‘You remember we danced to that once on my birthday at Simla.’ She shows him how they danced at Simla. COLONEL, to Steve, who is indeed the more bewildered of the two, ‘And a few minutes ago I assure you she was weeping on my shoulder!’ ALICE. ‘You were so nice to me that evening, Robert--I gave you a dance.’ She whirls him gaily round. COLONEL. ‘You flibberty jibbet, you make me dizzy.’ ALICE. ‘Shall we sit out the rest of the dance?’ COLONEL. ‘Not I. Come along, you unreasonable thing.’ ALICE. ‘Unreasonable. Robert, I have a reason. I want to see whether Amy will come.’ COLONEL. ‘Come?’ STEVE. ‘Come here?’ ALICE. ‘I didn’t tell you before, Robert, because I had so little hope; but I called to her through the door that I was coming here to meet you, and I said, “I don’t believe you have a headache, Amy; I believe you have locked yourself in there because you hate the poor mother who loves you,” and I begged her to come with me. I said, “If you won’t come now, come after me and make me happy.”’ COLONEL. ‘But what an odd message, Alice; so unlike you.’ ALICE. ‘Was it? I don’t know. I always find it so hard, Robert, to be like myself.’ COLONEL. ‘But, my dear, a young girl.’