MYRA: Well, it obviously isn’t here now. CLARA: Someone’s taken it—that’s what it is. RICHARD: It seems a queer thing to do. MYRA: Do you think you could get us some more? CLARA: Oh, yes, I’ll fetch you some; but mark my words, there’s been some ’anky-panky somewhere. (_She goes out._) MYRA: Clara is really more at home in a dressing-room than a house. RICHARD: Was she Judith’s dresser? MYRA: Of course. What other excuse could there possibly be for her? RICHARD: She seems good-natured, but quaint. MYRA: This haddock’s disgusting. RICHARD: It isn’t very nice, is it? [_Re-enter CLARA with sugar. She plumps it down._ CLARA: There you are, dear. MYRA: Thank you. CLARA: It’s a shame the weather’s changed—you might ’ave ’ad such fun up the river. [_There comes the sound of a crash from the library, and a scream._ What’s that? (_She opens the door._) Come out! What are you doing? [_JACKIE and SANDY enter, rather shamefaced._ JACKIE: Good morning. I’m afraid we’ve broken a coffee-cup. CLARA: Was there any coffee in it? SANDY: Yes, a good deal. CLARA (_rushing into the library_): Oh dear! all over the carpet! SANDY: It was my fault. I’m most awfully sorry. [_CLARA reappears._ CLARA: How did you come to do it? JACKIE: Well, you see, he had the hiccoughs, and I was showing him how to drink upside down. MYRA: How ridiculous! CLARA: Well, thank ’Eaven it wasn’t one of the Crown Derbys. (_She goes out._) SANDY: They’ve gone now, anyhow. JACKIE: It was the sudden shock, I expect. SANDY (_observantly_): I say—it’s raining! MYRA: It’s been raining for hours. RICHARD: Mrs. Arundel—— MYRA: Yes? RICHARD: What are you going to do about—about to-day? MYRA: Nothing, except go up to London by the first train possible. RICHARD: Do you mind if I come too? I don’t think I could face another day like yesterday. JACKIE: Neither could I. SANDY (_eagerly_): Let’s all go away—quietly! RICHARD: Won’t it seem a little rude if we _all_ go? MYRA: Yes it will. (_To SANDY_) You and Miss Coryton must stay. JACKIE: I don’t see why. SANDY: I don’t think they’d mind _very_ much if we all went. MYRA: Yes, they would. You must let Mr. Greatham and me get away first, anyhow. Ring for Clara. I want to find out about trains. RICHARD: I hope they won’t all come down now. MYRA: You needn’t worry about that; they’re sure to roll about in bed for hours—they’re such a slovenly family. RICHARD: Have you got much packing to do? MYRA: No; I did most of it before I came down. [_Re-enter CLARA._ CLARA: What is it now? MYRA: Can you tell me what trains there are up to London? CLARA: When? MYRA: This morning. CLARA: Why?—you’re not leaving, are you? MYRA: Yes; Mr. Greatham and I have to be up by lunch-time. CLARA: Well, you have missed the 10.15. MYRA: Obviously. CLARA: There isn’t another till 12.30. RICHARD: Good heavens! CLARA: And that’s a slow one. (_She goes out._)