[_Lowering his paper._] Eh?
SOPHY.
I was just starting off down to the gates, you know, to meet Mr. Valma.
QUEX.
[_With amiable indifference._] Oh?
SOPHY.
[_Her head upon one side, smiling._] But it"s too hot for walking, isn"t it?
QUEX.
[_Resuming his reading._] It is warm.
SOPHY.
[_Putting her bag upon the table and removing her gloves._] Phew!
[_She eyes him askance, undecided, as to a plan of action. He lowers his paper again, disconcerting her._
QUEX.
You don"t feel you _ought_ to go and meet your--Mr. Valma?
SOPHY.
[_Edging towards him._] I might miss him--mightn"t I?
QUEX.
Certainly--you might.
SOPHY.
Besides, it wouldn"t do for me to attend upon Mrs. Jack--Mrs. Eden--all puffing and towzelled; [_archly_] now, would it?
QUEX.
[_Resuming his reading._] You"re the best judge.
SOPHY.
So I"ve a quarter of an hour to fill in somehow. [_A pause._] I"ve a quarter of an hour to fill in somehow.
QUEX.
[_Behind his paper, beginning to be extremely bored._] Indeed?
SOPHY.
[_Quaking._] I--I wish there were some quiet little shady places to ramble about in, here at Fauncey Court.
QUEX.
There are several.
SOPHY.
Are there?... are there?
QUEX.
[_Turning his paper._] Oh, yes, a great many.
SOPHY.
You see, I"m a stranger--
QUEX.
[_Kindly._] Well, you run along; you"ll find "em. [_She walks away slowly, baffled. He glances at her over his paper, slightly puzzled._]
Have you seen the grotto?
SOPHY.
[_Turning sharply._] No.
QUEX.
[_Pointing towards the right._] It"s in that direction.
SOPHY.
Grotto? Dark, I suppose, and lonelyish?
QUEX.
You said you desired shade and quiet.
SOPHY.
Yes, but not darkness. Fancy me in a grotto all by myself ... by myself...!
QUEX.
[_Behind his paper again._] I"m afraid I have no further suggestion to offer.