Raglan. Oh, then we’ll get a taxi, shall we? And I’ll drop you.
Rupert (coming down). Where, then, do you live, Mr. Raglan?
Raglan. Me? Oh———I live up at Hampstead.
Rupert. Oh, I see. Then it’ll be quite easy to drop her.
Leila. I wish you’d drop your sarcastic remarks.
Rupert. Pardon, pardon. I crave your pardon. I’m always suspecting Love’s Young Dream—(he gives a ferocious blow with his stick on chest as he brings out the word “dream”) when it’s non-existent.
[Brandon and Granillo re-enter. Granillo is still staggering slightly.
Brandon. Well, well.
Leila. Well—I suppose we must go now.
Brandon. Oh—won’t you stay and have another spot?
Leila. Oh no. I don’t think so. Thanks awfully. I think I ought to be going.
Raglan. Yes. Same here, really.
Rupert. Yes. I thought so.
Leila (to Brandon: looking at Granillo reproachfully). Well, if you’re still going to-night, I certainly wouldn’t let him drive.
Granillo. Whadyoumean?
Brandon. I will not, Leila. You may be sure. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Granno.
Leila. He certainly ought.
Granillo. Whadyoumean? (Trying to grin.)
[Raglan is looking nervous and shy.
Leila (departingly). Well? . . .
Brandon. Well? . . .
Raglan. Well? . . .
[They go out. They are followed by Rupert, who stops at door.
[ 68 ]
