back to HORNBLOWER, the door L.
is flung open, and Jim enters, preceding CHARLES, his wife
CHLOE, and ROLF. CHARLES is a goodish-looking, moustached
young man of about twenty-eight, with a white rim to the collar
of his waistcoat, and spats. He has his hand behind CHLOE'S
back, as if to prevent her turning tail. She is rather a
handsome young woman, with dark eyes, full red lips, and a
suspicion of powder, a little under-dressed for the country.
ROLF, mho brings up the rear, is about twenty, with an open
face and stiffish butter-coloured hair. JILL runs over to her
father at the window. She has a bottle.]

JILL. [Sotto voce] Look, Dodo, I've brought the lot! Isn't it a
treat, dear Papa? And here's the stuff. Hallo!

[The exclamation is induced by the apprehension that there has
been a row. HILLCRIST gives a stiff little bow, remaining
where he is in the window. JILL, stays close to him, staring
from one to the other, then blocks him off and engages him in
conversation. CHARLES has gone up to his father, who has
remained maliciously still, where he delivered his last speech.
CHLOE and ROLF stand awkwardly waiting between the fireplace
and the door.]

HORNBLOWER. Well, Chearlie?

CHARLES. Not got it.

HORNBLOWER. Not!

CHARLES. I'd practically got her to say she'd sell at three
thousand five hundred, when that fellow Dawker turned up.

HORNBLOWER. That bull-terrier of a chap! Why, he was here a while
ago. Oh--ho! So that's it!

CHARLES. I heard him gallop up. He came straight for the old lady,
and got her away. What he said I don't know; but she came back
looking wiser than an owl; said she'd think it over, thought she had
other views.

HORNBLOWER. Did ye tell her she might have her price?

CHARLES. Practically I did.

HORNBLOWER. Well?

CHARLES. She thought it would be fairer to put it up to auction.
There were other enquiries. Oh! She's a leery old bird--reminds me
of one of those pictures of Fate, don't you know.

HORNBLOWER. Auction! Well, if it's not gone we'll get it yet.
That damned little Dawker! I've had a row with Hillcrist.

CHARLES. I thought so.

[They are turning cautiously to look at HILLCRIST, when JILL
steps forward.]

JILL. [Flushed and determined] That's not a bit sporting of you,
Mr. Hornblower.

[At her words ROLE comes forward too.]