TOMMY. I think you exaggerate, old chap. Golf's been getting awfully popular lately. WENTWORTH. Personally I am very fond of Bob. TOMMY. Oh, so am I. He's an absolute ripper. Still, _Gerald_, you know--I mean it's jolly bad luck on poor old Bob. Now Paderewski and I-- [Enter GERALD from the garden, a charming figure in a golfing coat and white flannels. Perhaps he is a little conscious of his charm; if so, it is hardly his fault, for hero-worship has been his lot from boyhood. He is now about twenty-six; everything that he has ever tried to do he has done well; and, if he is rather more unembarrassed than most of us when praised, his unself-consciousness is to a stranger as charming as the rest of him. With it all he is intensely reserved, with the result that those who refuse to succumb to his charm sometimes make the mistake of thinking that there is nothing behind it.] GERALD. Hallo, Wentworth, how are you? All right? WENTWORTH (getting up and shaking hands). Yes, thanks. How are you? GERALD. Simply bursting. Have you seen your room and all that sort of thing? WENTWORTH. Yes, thanks. GERALD. Good. And Tommy's been entertaining you. (To TOMMY) Tommy, I interrupted your story about Paderewski. I don't think I know it. (To WENTWORTH) You must listen to this; it may be fairly new. TOMMY. Don't be an ass. As a matter of fact, we were discussing something quite serious. GERALD (to WENTWORTH). How long have you been here? WENTWORTH. About ten minutes. GERALD. And Tommy hasn't told you that he did the eighth in one this morning? WENTWORTH. He hasn't really told me yet. He's only mentioned it once or twice in passing. TOMMY (modestly). Well, I mean it's bound to appear in the papers, so naturally one-- GERALD. Oh, it's a great business. Champagne will flow like water to-night. There will also be speeches. WENTWORTH. Which reminds me, Gerald, I have to congratulate you. GERALD. Thank you very much. When you've seen her you'll want to do it again. TOMMY (looking through the window). Hallo, there's Letty. GERALD. If you want to tell her about it, run along, Tommy. TOMMY (moving off). I thought I'd just take her on at putting. [He goes out.] GERALD (sitting down). You'll stay till--well, how long can you? Tuesday, anyhow. WENTWORTH. I think I can manage till Tuesday. Thanks very much. Miss Carey is here, of course? GERALD. Yes, she'll be in directly. She's gone to the station to meet Bob. WENTWORTH (smiling). And Gerald didn't go with her? GERALD (smiling). At least six people suggested that Gerald should go with her. They suggested it very loudly and archly-- WENTWORTH. So Gerald didn't? GERALD. So Gerald didn't. (After a pause) I can't stand that sort of thing. WENTWORTH. What sort of thing? GERALD (after a pause). Poor old boy! you've never been in love--barring the nine or ten times you're just going to tell me about. I mean never really in love. WENTWORTH. Don't drag _me_ into it. What is it you can't stand?