[_To_ DUNNING.] Larger gathering than you expected. [_Indicating the various personages by a glance._] Sir Randle and Lady Filson--my father and mother---- DUNNING. [_To_ SIR RANDLE _and_ LADY FILSON.] Evening. BERTRAM. My sister, Madame de Chaumie---- DUNNING. [_To_ OTTOLINE.] Evening. BERTRAM. Mr. Roope--Mr. Mackworth---- DUNNING. [_To them._] Evening. [SIR RANDLE, LADY FILSON, _and_ ROOPE, _looking at_ DUNNING _out of the corners of their eyes, acknowledge the introduction by a slight movement._ PHILIP _nods unpleasantly._ OTTOLINE, _with a stony countenance, also eyes_ DUNNING _askance, and gives the barest possible inclination of her head on being named._ BERTRAM. [_Bringing forward the chair on which he has been sitting and planting it nearer to_ SIR RANDLE _and_ LADY FILSON--_to_ DUNNING.] I suppose you may---- DUNNING. [_Taking off his gloves and overcoat--to_ PHILIP.] D'ye mind if I slip my coat off, Mr. Mackworth? PHILIP. [_Growling._] No. DUNNING. Don't want to get overheated, and catch the flue. I've got Mrs. D. in bed with a bad cold, as it is. BERTRAM. [_To_ DUNNING.] Now then, Mr. Dunning! I'll trouble you to give us an account of your operations in this business from the outset---- DUNNING. [_Hanging his coat over the back of the chair._] Pleasure. BERTRAM. The business of Mr. Mackworth's new book, I mean t'say. DUNNING. [_Sitting and placing his hat on the floor._] Pleasure. BERTRAM. Middle of October, wasn't it, when I----? DUNNING.