Still the library. Ten minutes later. Julia, angry and
miserable, comes in from the dining room, followed by
Craven. She crosses the room tormentedly, and throws
herself into a chair.

CRAVEN (impatiently). What is the matter? Has everyone gone mad
to-day? What do you mean by suddenly getting up from the table and
tearing away like that? What does Paramore mean by reading his paper
and not answering when he's spoken to? (Julia writhes impatiently.)
Come, come (tenderly): won't my pet tell her own father what--
(irritably) what the devil is wrong with everybody? Do pull yourself
straight, Julia, before Cuthbertson comes. He's only paying the bill:
he'll be here in a moment.

JULIA. I couldn't bear it any longer. Oh, to see them sitting there at
lunch together, laughing, chatting, making game of me! I should have
screamed out in another moment--I should have taken a knife and killed
her--I should have--(Cuthbertson appears with the luncheon bill in his
hand. He stuffs it into his waistcoat pocket as he comes to them. He
begins speaking the moment he enters.)

CUTHBERTSON. I'm afraid you've had a very poor lunch, Dan. It's
disheartening to see you picking at a few beans and drinking soda
water. I wonder how you live!

JULIA. That's all he ever takes, Mr. Cuthbertson, I assure you. He
hates to be bothered about it.