LETITIA. We told Madame Clarice her trunks had been misplaced in the
steamer hold.
DR. MASTERSON. Ingenious!
MRS. MASTERSON. Yes! Only she spoiled it all by telling the truth!
DR. MASTERSON. Where is she now?
MRS. MASTERSON. She's walking . . . she says she must have exercise.
LETITIA. The air in the limousine is close, it seems,
DR. MASTERSON. You got something she could wear to-night?
MRS. MASTERSON. Oh, yes, that part's all right. If I could only have
selected the things she's going to SAY to-night!
[A pause.]
DR. MASTERSON. Well, and what are the signs?
MRS. MASTERSON. I don't know. I can't read her at all.
DR. MASTERSON. You haven't broached the subject yet?
MRS. MASTERSON. Not definitely. I've hinted at it. I said we were
worried about the future of Freddy and Ethel.
DR. MASTERSON. And what did she say to that?
MRS. MASTERSON. She said that she'd take care of them, if I'd let her.
DR. MASTERSON. Why . . . that's promising.
MRS. MASTERSON. So I thought . . . till I found she meant taking them
off to the South Seas!
DR. MASTERSON. Oh!
MRS. MASTERSON. I thought I'd wait till to-night . . . after the
dancing. You see, she'll have met some company, and I thought she
might be feeling more . . . more genial.
DR. MASTERSON. I understand. A good idea.
LETITIA. Miss Pilkington ought to put her in a good mood.
MRS. MASTERSON. She's passionately fond of fancy dancing, it seems.
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