CHARTERIS. You are pleased. Wretch! Now you have lost the last scrap of my regard. (He turns to go, but is stopped by the return of Sylvia. Julia turns away and stands pretending to read a paper which she picks up from the table.) SYLVIA (offhandedly). Hallo, Charteris: how are you getting on? (She takes his arm familiarly and walks down the room with him.) Have you seen Grace Tranfield this morning? (Julia drops the paper and comes a step nearer to listen.) You generally know where she is to be found. CHARTERIS. I shall never know any more, Sylvia. She's quarrelled with me. SYLVIA. Sylvia! How often am I to tell you that I am not Sylvia at the club? CHARTERIS. I forgot. I beg your pardon, Craven, old chap (slaps her on the shoulder). SYLVIA. That's better--a little overdone, but better. JULIA. Don't be a fool, Silly. SYLVIA. Remember, Julia, if you please, that here we are members of the club, not sisters. I don't take liberties with you here on family grounds: don't you take any with me. (She goes to the settee and resumes her former place.) CHARTERIS. Quite right, Craven. Down with the tyranny of the elder sister! JULIA. You ought to know better than to encourage a child to make herself ridiculous, Leonard, even at my expense. CHARTERIS (seating himself on the edge of the table). Your lunch will be cold, Julia. (Julia is about to retort furiously when she is checked by the reappearance of Cuthbertson at the left hand door.) CUTHBERTSON. What has become of you, Miss Craven? Your father is getting quite uneasy. We're all waiting for you. JULIA. So I have just been reminded, thank you. (She goes out angrily past him, Sylvia looking round to see.) CUTHBERTSON (looking first after her, then at Charteris). More neurasthenia. (He follows her.) SYLVIA (jumping up on her knees on the settee and speaking over the back of it). What's up, Charteris? Julia been making love to you? CHARTERIS (speaking to her over his shoulder). No. Blowing me up for making love to Grace. SYLVIA. Serve you right. You are an awful devil for philandering. CHARTERIS (calmly). Do you consider it good club form to talk that way to a man who might nearly be your father? SYLVIA (knowingly). Oh, I know you, my lad. CHARTERIS. Then you know that I never pay any special attention to any woman. SYLVIA (thoughtfully). Do you know, Leonard, I really believe you. I don't think you care a bit more for one woman than for another. CHARTERIS. You mean I don't care a bit less for one woman than another. SYLVIA. That makes it worse. But what I mean is that you never bother about their being only women: you talk to them just as you do to me or any other fellow. That's the secret of your success. You can't think how sick they get of being treated with the respect due to their sex. CHARTERIS. Ah, if Julia only had your wisdom, Craven! (He gets off the table with a sigh and perches himself reflectively on the stepladder.)