DOMINIC. I looked it up in the dictionary one Sunday afternoon, sir. They describe it there as “an abnormal dryness of the mouth.” LATIMER. I said I wanted to be original, Dominic. DOMINIC. Quite so, sir. (_They both think in silence._) LATIMER. Perhaps I had better leave it to the inspiration of the moment. EUSTASIA (_off_). Dominic! Dominic! DOMINIC. This appears to be the moment, sir. LATIMER. Quick. (_Bustling him off_) Don’t let her ladyship come in for a moment. I must assume a recumbent position. DOMINIC. Yes, sir. [_He goes out._ (_LATIMER lies down at full length on the sofa and begins to groan; putting a hand first on his stomach, then on his head, then on his elbow. EUSTASIA does not come. He cautiously raises his head; the room is empty._) LATIMER (_disappointedly_). Throwing it away! (_He hears footsteps, and settles down again._) (_ANNE comes in, hat on, bag in hand. She is just at the door when a groan reaches her. She stops. Another groan comes. She puts down her bag and comes towards the sofa with an “Oh!” of anxiety._) LATIMER. Oh, my poor—er—head! (_He clasps it._) ANNE (_alarmed_). What is it? (_She kneels by him._) LATIMER. Oh, my—— (_Cheerfully_) Hallo, Anne, is it you? (_He sits up._) ANNE (_still anxious_). Yes, what is it? LATIMER (_bravely_). Oh, nothing, nothing. A touch of neuralgia. ANNE. Oh!... You frightened me. LATIMER. Did I, Anne? I’m sorry. ANNE. You were groaning so. I thought—I didn’t know what had happened.... (_Sympathetically_) Is it very bad? LATIMER. Not so bad as it sounded. ANNE (_taking off her gloves_). I know how bad it can be. Father has it sometimes. Then I have to send it away. (_She has her gloves off now_) May I try? LATIMER (_remorsefully_). Anne! (_She leans over from the back of him and begins to stroke his forehead with the tips of her fingers. He looks up at her._) ANNE. Close your eyes. LATIMER. Ah, but I don’t want to now. (_She laughs without embarrassment._) ANNE. It will go soon. LATIMER. Not too soon.... ANNE (_laughing suddenly_). Aren’t faces funny when they’re upside down? LATIMER. You have the absurdest little upside-down face that ever I saw, Anne. ANNE (_happily_). Have I? LATIMER. Why do you wear a hat on your chin? (_She laughs._) Why do you wear a hat? ANNE. I was going away. LATIMER. Without saying good-bye? ANNE (_ashamed_). I—I think so. LATIMER. Oh, Anne! ANNE (_hastily_). I should have written. LATIMER. A post-card! ANNE. A letter. LATIMER. With many thanks for your kind hospitality, yours sincerely. ANNE. Yours _very_ sincerely. LATIMER. P.S.—I shall never see you again. ANNE. P.S.—I shall never forget. LATIMER. Ah, but you _must_ forget.... ANNE (_after a pause_). Is it better?