to-blazes.

LATTER. Well, I must say, Ronny--of all the rude boors----[He turns
towards the billiard-room.]

KEITH. Sorry I smashed the glass, old chap.

LATTER passes out. There comes a mingled sound through the
opened door, of female voices, laughter, and the click of
billiard balls, dipped of by the sudden closing of the door.

KEITH. [Impersonally] Deuced odd, the way a parson puts one's back
up! Because you know I agree with him really; young Dunning ought to
play the game; and I hope Sir William'll make him.

The butler JACKSON has entered from the door under the stairs
followed by the keeper STUDDENHAM, a man between fifty and
sixty, in a full-skirted coat with big pockets, cord breeches,
and gaiters; he has a steady self respecting weathered face,
with blue eyes and a short grey beard, which has obviously once
been red.

KEITH. Hullo! Studdenham!

STUDDENHAM. [Touching his forehead] Evenin', Captain Keith.

JACKSON. Sir William still in the dining-room with Mr. Bill, sir?

HAROLD. [With a grimace] He is, Jackson.

JACKSON goes out to the dining-room.

KEITH. You've shot no pheasants yet, Studdenham?

STUDDENHAM. No, Sir. Only birds. We'll be doin' the spinneys and
the home covert while you're down.

KEITH. I say, talkin' of spinneys----

He breaks off sharply, and goes out with HAROLD into the
billiard-room. SIR WILLIAM enters from the dining-room,
applying a gold toothpick to his front teeth.

SIR WILLIAM. Ah! Studdenham. Bad business this, about young
Dunning!

STUDDENHAM. Yes, Sir William.

SIR WILLIAM. He definitely refuses to marry her?

STUDDENHAM. He does that.

SIR WILLIAM. That won't do, you know. What reason does he give?

STUDDENHAM. Won't say other than that he don't want no more to do
with her.

SIR WILLIAM. God bless me! That's not a reason. I can't have a
keeper of mine playing fast and loose in the village like this.
[Turning to LADY CHESHIRE, who has come in from the billiard-room]
That affair of young Dunning's, my dear.

LADY CHESHIRE. Oh! Yes! I'm so sorry, Studdenham. The poor girl!

STUDDENHAM. [Respectfully] Fancy he's got a feeling she's not his
equal, now, my lady.

LADY CHESHIRE. [To herself] Yes, I suppose he has made her his
superior.

SIR WILLIAM. What? Eh! Quite! Quite! I was just telling
Studdenham the fellow must set the matter straight. We can