"I cannot stay; I'll get something at the theatre." "Do eat a cutlet, it will not take a moment ... a mouthful of omelette. Think of your voice." There were engravings after Morland on the walls, and the silver on the breakfast-table was Queen Anne--the little round tea urn Owen and Evelyn had picked up the other day in a suburban shop; the horses, whose glittering red hides could be seen through the window, had been bought last Saturday at Tattersall's. Evelyn went to the window to admire them, and Lady Duckle's thoughts turned to the coachman. "He sent in just now to ask for a map of London. It appears he doesn't know the way, yet, when I took up his references, I was assured that he knew London perfectly." "Dulwich is very little known; it is at least five miles from here." "Oh, Dulwich!... you're going there?" "Yes, I ought to have gone the day after we arrived in London. ... I wanted to; I've been thinking of it all the time, and the longer I put it off the more difficult it will become." "That is true." "I thought I would drive there to-day before I went to rehearsal." "Why choose a day on which you have a rehearsal?" "Only because I've put it off so often. Something always happens to prevent me. I must see my father." "Have you written to him?" "No, but I sent him a paper containing an account of the first night. I thought he might have written to me about it, or he might have come to see me. He must know that I am dying to see him." "I think it would be better for you to go to see him in the first instance." Lady Duckle meant Evelyn to understand that it would not be well to risk anything that might bring about a meeting between Sir Owen and Mr. Innes. But she did not dare to be more explicit. Owen had forbidden any discussion of his relations with Evelyn. "Of course it would be nice for you to see your father. But you should, I think, go to him; surely that is the proper course." "We've written to each other from time to time, but not lately--not since we went to Greece.... I've neglected my correspondence." Tears rose to Evelyn's eyes, and Lady Duckle was sorely tempted to lead her into confidences. But Owen's counsels prevailed; she dissembled, saying that she knew how Evelyn loved her father, and how nice it would be for her to see him again after such a long absence. "I dare say he'll forgive me, but there'll be reproaches. I don't think there's anyone who hates a scene more than I do." "I haven't lived with you five years without having found out that. But in avoiding a disagreeable scene we are often preparing one more disagreeable." "That is true.... I think I'll go to Dulwich." "Shall you have time?... You're not in the first act." "Dulwich is not six miles from here. We can drive there easily in three-quarters of an hour. And three-quarters of an hour to get back. They won't begin to rehearse the second act before one. It is a little after ten now." "Then good-bye."