PHILIP (cutting her short). Sh! (Valentine starts nervously; for the sound made by Philip, though but momentary, is like cutting a sheet of silk in two with a flash of lightning. It is the result of long practice in checking Dolly's indiscretions.) The fact is, Mr. Valentine, we are the children of the celebrated Mrs. Lanfrey Clandon, an authoress of great repute--in Madeira. No household is complete without her works. We came to England to get away from them. The are called the Twentieth Century Treatises. DOLLY. Twentieth Century Cooking. PHILIP. Twentieth Century Creeds. DOLLY. Twentieth Century Clothing. PHILIP. Twentieth Century Conduct. DOLLY. Twentieth Century Children. PHILIP. Twentieth Century Parents. DOLLY. Cloth limp, half a dollar. PHILIP. Or mounted on linen for hard family use, two dollars. No family should be without them. Read them, Mr. Valentine: they'll improve your mind. DOLLY. But not till we've gone, please. PHILIP. Quite so: we prefer people with unimproved minds. Our own minds are in that fresh and unspoiled condition. VALENTINE (dubiously). Hm! DOLLY (echoing him inquiringly). Hm? Phil: he prefers people whose minds are improved. PHILIP. In that case we shall have to introduce him to the other member of the family: the Woman of the Twentieth Century; our sister Gloria! DOLLY (dithyrambically). Nature's masterpiece! PHILIP. Learning's daughter! DOLLY. Madeira's pride! PHILIP. Beauty's paragon! DOLLY (suddenly descending to prose). Bosh! No complexion. VALENTINE (desperately). May I have a word? PHILIP (politely). Excuse us. Go ahead. DOLLY (very nicely). So sorry. VALENTINE (attempting to take them paternally). I really must give a hint to you young people-- DOLLY (breaking out again). Oh, come: I like that. How old are you? PHILIP. Over thirty. DOLLY. He's not. PHILIP (confidently). He is. DOLLY (emphatically). Twenty-seven. PHILIP (imperturbably). Thirty-three. DOLLY. Stuff! PHILIP (to Valentine). I appeal to you, Mr. Valentine. VALENTINE (remonstrating). Well, really--(resigning himself.) Thirty-one. PHILIP (to Dolly). You were wrong. DOLLY. So were you. PHILIP (suddenly conscientious). We're forgetting our manners, Dolly. DOLLY (remorseful). Yes, so we are. PHILIP (apologetic). We interrupted you, Mr. Valentine. DOLLY. You were going to improve our minds, I think. VALENTINE. The fact is, your-- PHILIP (anticipating him). Our appearance? DOLLY. Our manners? VALENTINE (ad misericordiam). Oh, do let me speak. DOLLY. The old story. We talk too much. PHILIP. We do. Shut up, both. (He seats himself on the arm of the opposing chair.) DOLLY. Mum! (She sits down in the writing-table chair, and closes her lips tight with the tips of her fingers.)