I suppose we are, you see...

(_Exeunt to garden._)

FAITH. Come on, Bobbie. (_Coming_ C.)

BOBBIE. No, stay here and talk to me. (_Goes to her and takes her
hand._)

FAITH. Mother will only come back and fetch me.

BOBBIE. No, she won't. They're both jawing quite happily. I have been so
looking forward to to-day.

FAITH. So have I.

BOBBIE. I was terrified that you'd wire or something to say you couldn't
come.

FAITH. Silly Bobbie.

BOBBIE. Do you realize it's a whole week since I've seen you. (_Dropping
her hand._) I've got something for you.

FAITH (_eagerly_). What is it?

BOBBIE. A song.

FAITH (_without enthusiasm_). Oh.

BOBBIE. Shall I play it?

FAITH (_moves to_ R. _of table._) Yes, do.

(_Enter_ JOYCE _downstairs._)

BOBBIE. Damn.

JOYCE. Hullo, Faith, how are you? (_They kiss._) Come and play a single
with me.

BOBBIE (_at piano_). Oh, do go away, Joyce. I'm just going to play her a
song--her song.

FAITH. My song? (_Sits_ R. _of table._)

BOBBIE. I wrote it specially for her.

JOYCE. Aren't you lucky? Well, come out presently when you feel you're
rhapsodized enough. (_Crosses to corridor._)

BOBBIE. Oh, do shut up, Joy, and go away.

(BOBBIE _starts to play._)

JOYCE. All right, keep calm. (_Exits and re-enter._) Have you seen my
racquet?

BOBBIE. No.

JOYCE. Oh, thanks, dear, for your kind help. Sorry I came in at the
wrong moment.

(_Exit_ JOYCE _brightly._)

BOBBIE. Young sisters are a nuisance sometimes.

FAITH (_giggling_). They must be.

BOBBIE. Listen...

(FAITH _reads magazine and takes no notice of song. He plays and
sings a short love song._)

BOBBIE. There! Do you like it.

FAITH (_putting magazine down--ecstatically_). Oh, Bobbie, that's simply
too sweet for words. It has a something about it--did you really write
it for me?

BOBBIE (_ardently_). Every note.

(BOBBIE _plays a well-known and hackneyed song._)

FAITH. Bobbie! that's wonderful! Wonderful!! It's the best you've ever
done. Now I _know_ you are clever.

BOBBIE (_coming_ C.). Yes! but I didn't write that one.

FAITH (_goes to him_). Oh! didn't you. Well, I know you would if you had
thought of it--but never mind----

FAITH. Can you play the Indian Love Lyrics--I never get tired of them!

BOBBIE. I don't want to play any more, I want to talk to you.

FAITH. What shall we talk about?

BOBBIE. I could tell you such wonderful things--but I don't know wh