SOREL (_grandly_): Whether she’s here or not is a matter of extreme indifference to me, but I’m afraid Richard won’t like her very much. SIMON: You’re afraid he’ll like her too much. SOREL: That was an offensive remark, Simon, and rather silly. JUDITH (_plaintively_): Why on earth don’t you fall in love with nice young girls, instead of self-conscious vampires? SIMON: She’s not a vampire, and I never said I was in love with her. SOREL: He’s crazy about her. She butters him up and admires his sketches. SIMON: What about you picking up old gentlemen at dances? SOREL (_furiously_): He’s _not_ old! JUDITH: You’ve both upset me thoroughly. I wanted a nice, restful week-end, with moments of Sandy’s ingenuous affection to warm the cockles of my heart when I felt in the mood, and now the house is going to be full of discord—not enough food, everyone fighting for the bath—perfect agony! I wish I were dead! SIMON: You needn’t worry about Myra and me. We shall keep out of everyone’s way. SOREL: I shall take Richard on the river all day to-morrow. JUDITH: In what? SOREL: The punt. JUDITH: I absolutely forbid you to go near the punt. SIMON: It’s sure to rain, anyhow. JUDITH: What your father will say I tremble to think. He needs complete quiet to finish off “The Sinful Woman.” SOREL: I see no reason for there to be any noise, unless Sandy What’s-his-name is given to shouting. JUDITH: If you’re rude to Sandy I shall be extremely angry. SOREL: } Now, look here, Mother—— SIMON: } Why you should expect—— JUDITH: } He’s coming all the way down specially to be nice to me—— [_Enter DAVID down stairs. He looks slightly irritable._ DAVID: Why are you all making such a noise? JUDITH: I think I’m going mad. DAVID: Why hasn’t Clara brought me my tea? JUDITH: I don’t know. DAVID: Where is Clara? JUDITH: Do stop firing questions at me, David. DAVID: Why are you all so irritable? What’s happened? [_Enter CLARA, with a tray of tea for one._ CLARA: Here’s your tea. I’m sorry I’m late with it. Amy forgot to put the kettle on—she’s got terrible toothache. DAVID: Poor girl! Give her some oil of cloves. SOREL: If anyone else mentions oil of cloves, I shall do something desperate. DAVID: It’s wonderful stuff. Where’s Zoe? SIMON: She was in the garden this morning. DAVID: I suppose no one thought of giving her any lunch? CLARA: I put it down by the kitchen table as usual, but she never came in for it. SOREL: She’s probably mousing. DAVID: She isn’t old enough yet. She might have fallen into the river, for all you care. I think it’s a shame! CLARA: Don’t you worry your head—Zoe won’t come to any harm; she’s too wily.