CELIA. (_Protestingly_) But it's too late. MADGE. No, the post doesn't go until ten. You have just time. PHYLLIS. (_Opening blotting pad and ink well_) You must, if it is only a note. He will be expecting something. CELIA. Oh, I couldn't write in such a hurry. PHYLLIS. (_Forcing pen into_ CELIA'S _hand_) You must. CELIA. (_Laughingly_) Well, I can't write with you two at my elbows, you know. (MADGE _goes slowly up into card room, turning and smiling at_ CELIA _as she goes_.) PHYLLIS. (_Running up and around and down to foot of sofa_) I shan't look. (_Kneels on Chesterfield sofa, facing_ CELIA) What do you call him? CELIA. (_At a loss_) I don't know. PHYLLIS. (_Surprised_) You don't know? CELIA. (_Recovering herself_) I mean, dear, I use a pet name. PHYLLIS. Oh, lovely, what is it? CELIA. Really, it's too absurd, you know, Phyllis. It's--it's--_Wobbles_. PHYLLIS. (_Laughing and surprised_) Wobbles! CELIA. Yes, dear. Everybody calls him--Wobbles. PHYLLIS. (_Laughing_) Celia, it's delicious. Fancy your being married to a man called Wobbles! (_Pretending to write in the air_) "My darling Wobbles." (_Laughs and runs up to_ TARVER, _who is seated reading in the morning room, saying as she goes_) Bobby, what do you think? (_She tells_ TARVER _the name of_ CELIA'S _fiance in dumb show as she sits opposite him_.) CELIA. (_Writing_) "My darling Wobbles." (TARVER _laughs. Laugh in card room_.) CELIA. (_Looks around to see that no one is overlooking or watching her. Writes_) "I hardly know how to write you. It all seems too hauntingly beautiful to be true. I see your face everywhere--Wobbles. The very tulips have a look of you. Oh, dearest, don't get wounded in the war." (_Leans back and laughs to herself_) Good Heavens, when I got up this morning, did I ever think that I should be doing anything like this? (_Resumes writing_) "This is my first love letter, Wobbles, but even I know how it ought to end. Crosses, Wobbles, crosses. One, two, three, four, five, nought, nought, nought, nought, nought. To be taken as required. Thine forever. Celia Faraday." (PHYLLIS _comes to right of sofa and hands envelope to_ CELIA.) Thank you, dear. (TARVER _strolls down center, looking at_ CELIA. CELIA _turns letter face down on blotter to prevent its being seen by_ PHYLLIS. _Then seeing that she is being scrutinised by_ TARVER _and_ PHYLLIS, _she takes envelope from_ PHYLLIS, _places letter in it, addresses it and seals it. Addressing letter_) "Colonel Smith, Field Force, Somaliland, Africa." TARVER. I say, Miss Faraday. CELIA. Yes. TARVER. I hope awfully that _you_ will _help_ me in my election. RALEIGH. (_Speaking from card room, turning in his chair and holding card aloft_) Yes, it's just girls like you, Miss Faraday, who win the day. TARVER. Righto!! GRICE. (_Thumping the table_) Have you none of that suit, sir? RALEIGH. (_Whirling around and playing_) Oh, yes, I beg your pardon.