EVANGELINE. It sounds very much like everything else to me. BOBBIE. Only because you haven't got any ear. As a matter of fact they're quite good chords. I shall put them into the new tomb-stone cycle. EVANGELINE. Don't alter many of my words, will you? BOBBIE. Not many, but the bit about "worms gnawing the grave of my beloved" is a little too gloomy. Couldn't you make it butterflies? (JOYCE _giggles._) EVANGELINE. Don't be silly, Bobbie! butterflies don't live in graves. Well, you can use the first two verses as they are. BOBBIE. I will. (_He starts to play again_, MRS. DERMOTT _is just going towards the stairs when there comes a ring and knock at the front door._) JOYCE (_rising_). My goodness, the Crombies--I must go and wash. I'm covered in ink. (_Going to stairs._) EVANGELINE (_down_ L. _of table_). I shouldn't worry, dear, they'll be so overdressed themselves they will amply make up for any deficiencies in our appearances. JOYCE. I think I'd better go all the same. I must do my hair. BOBBIE. Don't dazzle them too much, dear. (_Exit_ JOYCE _upstairs._ GRIGGS _crosses in corridor to open front door._) EVANGELINE (_going to corridor_). I'll be in presently, mother. I've left my note-book in the summer house, and I'm afraid of forgetting it. BOBBIE (_still at piano_). You'll meet them on the doorstep. EVANGELINE. No, I shan't. I'm going through the drawing room window. (_Exit_ EVANGELINE, R.) MRS. DERMOTT (C.). Really it's most inconsiderate of her to leave me alone like this. Bobbie darling----SPACELEFT(BOBBIE _crosses to her, kisses her._) (_Re-enter_ GRIGGS.) GRIGGS. Mrs. Crombie, Miss Faith Crombie. (_Enter_ MRS. CROMBIE, _and_ FAITH. MRS. CROMBIE _is a well-preserved, rather flashy woman._ FAITH _is a very pretty girl, perhaps a shade too self-assured. She is all right when by herself, but when compared with the Dermott girls, there is obviously a little something lacking._) MRS. DERMOTT (_going to her, drops quantity of papers_). I'm so glad you were able to come, dear Mrs. Crombie. How are you, Faith dear? (FAITH _giggles, goes down to Chesterfield._) I do hope you weren't too shaken up in the Ford, but Sylvia has taken the car up to Town to meet my brother. (BOBBIE _kicks papers up stage, then moves to bottom of table._) MRS. CROMBIE (_up_ R.C.). Not at all, we didn't expect to be met at all. It's such a little way. Well, Bobbie, have you been writing any more successes? BOBBIE (_laughing_). I think I've done one or two bad enough to be good. FAITH. Oh, mother, isn't he cynical? MRS. DERMOTT (C.). He always talks like that. Fancy, he says his Rose song is bad. Fancy that wonderful Rose song. I'm always humming it. (_Hums few notes of "The Rosary,"_ BOBBIE _attempting to stop her._) Well, I forget it now, but I love it. FAITH (_down_ R.). I love it too. BOBBIE (_down_ L.). Do you really? FAITH. Of course. (_Moves to piano._)