CHARTERIS (seeing Julia). Oh Lord! (He retreats under the lee of the
revolving bookstand.)

PARAMORE (sympathetically to the Colonel). Allow me. (Takes his wrist
and begins to count his pulse.)

CRAVEN (looking up). Eh? (Withdraws his hand and rises rather
crossly.) No, Paramore: it's not my liver now: it's private business.
(A chase now begins between Julia and Charteris, all the more exciting
to them because the huntress and her prey must alike conceal the real
object of their movements from the others. Charteris first makes for
the right hand door. Julia immediately moves back to it, barring his
path. He doubles back round the bookstand, setting it whirling as he
makes for the left door, Julia crossing in pursuit of him. He is about
to escape when he is cut off by the return of Cuthbertson. He turns
back and sees Julia close upon him. There being nothing else for it,
he bolts up into the recess to the left of the fireplace.)

CUTHBERTSON. Good morning, Miss Craven. (They shake hands.) Won't you
join us at lunch? Paramore's coming too.

JULIA. Thanks: I shall be very pleased. (She goes up with affected
purposelessness towards the recess. Charteris, almost trapped in it,
crosses to the right hand recess by way of the fender, knocking down
the fire irons with a crash as he does so.)

CRAVEN (who has crossed to the whirling bookcase and stopped it). What
the dickens are you doing there, Charteris?