RANDALL. Now that they have gone, shall we have a friendly chat?
HECTOR. You are in what is supposed to be my house. I am at your disposal.
- Hector sits down in the draughtsman's chair, turning it to face Randall, who remains standing, leaning at his ease against the carpenter's bench.
RANDALL. I take it that we may be quite frank. I mean about Lady Utterword.
HECTOR. You may. I have nothing to be frank about. I never met her until this afternoon.
RANDALL [straightening up]. What! But you are her sister's husband.
HECTOR. Well, if you come to that, you are her husband's brother.
RANDALL. But you seem to be on intimate terms with her.
HECTOR. So do you.
RANDALL. Yes: but I AM on intimate terms with her. I have known her for years.
HECTOR. It took her years to get to the same point with you that she got to with me in five minutes, it seems.
RANDALL [vexed]. Really, Ariadne is the limit [he moves away huffishly towards the windows].
HECTOR [coolly]. She is, as I remarked to Hesione, a very enterprising woman.
RANDALL [returning, much troubled]. You see, Hushabye, you are what women consider a good-looking man.
HECTOR. I cultivated that appearance in the days of my vanity; and Hesione insists on my keeping it up. She makes me wear these ridiculous things [indicating his Arab costume] because she thinks me absurd in evening dress.
RANDALL. Still, you do keep it up, old
