MRS. ANDERSON. Lawk a floury me!
(_Hurries out D. in F._)
STELLA. What are you writing? (_Takes up one of the telegrams._)
“Walter Everest, _Ship Hotel_, Brighton. Cyril Davidson is living. Come
home.”
(_WALTER knocks loudly at bedroom door._)
Jack! listen!
JACK (_still writing--knocking repeated_). Coming--coming.
(_Knocking ceases--he continues._)
This goes to every hotel in Brighton.
STELLA. He may not be at an hotel.