ROSAMUND. Yes. I did think so at the time. But now--now I have a kind of idea that he may come, that after all he may have remained faithful. You know I was maddeningly pretty then, and he had my photograph. JAMES. Tell me, have you corresponded? ROSAMUND. No, I expressly forbade it. JAMES. Ah! ROSAMUND. But still, I have a premonition he may come. JAMES [_assuming a pugnacious pose_]. If he does, I will attend to him. ROSAMUND. Gerald was a terrible fighter. [_A resounding knock is heard at the door. Both start violently, and look at each other in silence. Rosamund goes to the door and opens it._] ROSAMUND [_with an unsteady laugh of relief_]. Only the postman with a letter. [_She returns to her seat._] No, I don't expect he will come, really. [_Puts letter idly on table. Another knock still louder. Renewed start._] ROSAMUND. Now that _is_ he, I'm positive. He always knocked like that. Just fancy. After four years! Jim, just take the chair behind that screen for a bit. I _must_ hide you. JAMES. No, thanks! The screen dodge is a trifle _too_ frayed at the edges. ROSAMUND. Only for a minute. It would be _such_ fun. JAMES. No, thanks. [_Another knock._] ROSAMUND [_with forced sweetness_]. Oh, very well, then.... JAMES. Oh, well, of course, if you take it in that way--[_He proceeds to a chair behind screen, which does not, however, hide him from the audience._] ROSAMUND [_smiles his reward_]. I'll explain it all right. [_Loudly._] Come in! [_Enter Gerald O'Mara._] GERALD. So you are in! [_Hastens across room to shake hands._] ROSAMUND. Oh, yes, I am in. Gerald, how are you? I must say you look tolerably well. [_They sit down._] GERALD. Oh, I'm pretty fit, thanks. Had the most amazing time in spite of the climate. And you? Rosie, you haven't changed a little bit. How's the cookery trade getting along? Are you still showing people how to concoct French dinners out of old bones and a sardine tin? ROSAMUND. Certainly. Only I can do it without the bones now. You see, the science has progressed while you've been stagnating in Cyprus. GERALD. Stagnating is the word. You wouldn't believe that climate! ROSAMUND. What! Not had nice weather? What a shame! I thought it was tremendously sunshiny in Cyprus. GERALD. Yes, that's just what it is, 97° in the shade when it doesn't happen to be pouring with malarial rain. We started a little golf club at Nicosia, and laid out a nine-hole course. But the balls used to melt. So we had to alter the rules, keep the balls in an ice-box, and take a fresh one at every hole. Think of that! ROSAMUND. My poor boy! But I suppose there were compensations? You referred to "an amazing time." GERALD. Yes, there were compensations. And that reminds me, I want you to come out and lunch with me at the Savoy. I've got something awfully important to ask you. In fact, that's what I've come for. ROSAMUND. Sorry I can't, Gerald. The fact is, I've got something awfully important myself just about lunch time.