[_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.