SCENE II [NOTE.--This should be a small set capable of being set quickly within that of the previous scene.] Morning of the following day. The DANCYS' flat. In the sitting-room of this small abode MABEL DANCY and MARGARET ORME are sitting full face to the audience, on a couch in the centre of the room, in front of the imaginary window. There is a fireplace, Left, with fire burning; a door below it, Left; and a door on the Right, facing the audience, leads to a corridor and the outer door of the flat, which is visible. Their voices are heard in rapid exchange; then as the curtain rises, so does MABEL. MABEL. But it's monstrous! MARGARET. Of course! [She lights a cigarette and hands the case to MABEL, who, however, sees nothing but her own thoughts] De Levis might just as well have pitched on me, except that I can't jump more than six inches in these skirts. MABEL. It's wicked! Yesterday afternoon at the Club, did you say? Ronny hasn't said a word to me. Why? MARGARET. [With a long puff of smoke] Doesn't want you bothered. MABEL. But----Good heavens!----Me! MARGARET. Haven't you found out, Mabel, that he isn't exactly communicative? No desperate character is. MABEL. Ronny? MARGARET. Gracious! Wives are at a disadvantage, especially early on. You've never hunted with him, my dear. I have. He takes more sudden decisions than any man I ever knew. He's taking one now, I'll bet. MABEL. That beast, De Levis! I was in our room next door all the time. MARGARET. Was the door into Ronny's dressing-room open? MABEL. I don't know; I--I think it was. MARGARET. Well, you can say so in Court any way. Not that it matters. Wives are liars by law. MABEL. [Staring down at her] What do you mean--Court? MARGARET. My dear, he'll have to bring an action for defamation of character, or whatever they call it. MABEL. Were they talking of this last night at the WINSOR's? MARGARET. Well, you know a dinner-table, Mabel--Scandal is heaven-sent at this time of year. MABEL. It's terrible, such a thing--terrible! MARGARET. [Gloomily] If only Ronny weren't known to be so broke. MABEL. [With her hands to her forehead] I can't realise--I simply can't. If there's a case would it be all right afterwards? MARGARET. Do you remember St Offert--cards? No, you wouldn't--you were in high frocks. Well, St Offert got damages, but he also got the hoof, underneath. He lives in Ireland. There isn't the slightest connection, so far as I can see, Mabel, between innocence and reputation. Look at me! MABEL. We'll fight it tooth and nail! MARGARET. Mabel, you're pure wool, right through; everybody's sorry for you. MABEL. It's for him they ought-- MARGARET. [Again handing the cigarette case] Do smoke, old thing. MABEL takes a cigarette this time, but does not light it.