JANET. Perhaps Lady Mogton has ordered it, I’ll ask her.
(_She goes out_.)
SIGSBY. Hadn’t you better “Wait and see”? It isn’t over yet.
PHOEBE. We may as well have it! It can play the Dead March in “Saul” if
you win. (_She laughs_.)
SIGSBY. (_Grunts_. _To_ LAMB.) Are you coming?
(_He goes out_.)
LAMB. Yes. (_To_ ST. HERBERT.) Are you coming?
ST. HERBERT. Hardly worth while; nearly over, isn’t it?
LAMB. It generally takes an hour and a half. (_He looks at his watch_.)
Another forty minutes. Perhaps less.
(_He goes out_.)
PHOEBE. I do love to make him ratty. Wish it wasn’t poor old Geoff we
were fighting.
ST. HERBERT. When I marry, it will be the womanly woman.
PHOEBE. No chance for me then?
ST. HERBERT. I don’t say that. I can see you taking your political
opinions from your husband, and thinking them your own.
PHOEBE. Good heavens!
ST. HERBERT. The brainy woman will think for herself. And then I
foresee some lively breakfast tables.
PHOEBE. Humph! No fear, I suppose, of a man taking his views from his
wife and thinking them his own?
ST. HERBERT. That may be the solution. The brainy woman will have to
marry the manly man.
(GINGER _enters_.)
JAWBONES. (_He is on his knees blowing the fire_. _In a low growl_.)
Shut the door!
GINGER. Can’t till I’m inside, can I? (_Shuts it_.) Where’s Lady
Mogton?
JAWBONES. I don’t know.
PHOEBE. What do you want her for?
GINGER. Only to tell her that I can’t find Chilvers.
PHOEBE. Isn’t she here?
GINGER. Not unless she’s come while I’ve been out.
(JANET _enters_.)