f this. My
great-grandfather----

LATTER. Spare me your great-grandfather.

HAROLD. I could tell you of at least a dozen men I know who've been
through this same business, and got off scot-free; and now because
Bill's going to play the game, it'll smash him up.

LATTER. Why didn't he play the game at the beginning?

HAROLD. I can't stand your sort, John. When a thing like this
happens, all you can do is to cry out: Why didn't he--? Why didn't
she--? What's to be done--that's the point!

LATTER. Of course he'll have to----.

HAROLD. Ha!

LATTER. What do you mean by--that?

HAROLD. Look here, John! You feel in your bones that a marriage'll
be hopeless, just as I do, knowing Bill and the girl and everything!
Now don't you?

LATTER. The whole thing is--is most unfortunate.

HAROLD. By Jove! I should think it was!

As he speaks CHRISTINE and KEITH Come in from the billiard-room.
He is still in splashed hunting clothes, and looks exceptionally
weathered, thin-lipped, reticent. He lights a cigarette and
sinks into an armchair. Behind them DOT and JOAN have come
stealing in.

CHRISTINE. I've told Ronny.

JOAN. This waiting for father to be told is awful.

HAROLD. [To KEITH] Where did you leave the old man?

KEITH. Clackenham. He'll be home in ten minutes.

DOT. Mabel's going. [They all stir, as if at fresh consciousness of
discomfiture]. She walked into Gracely and sent herself a telegram.

HAROLD. Phew!

DOT. And we shall say good-bye, as if nothing had happened.

HAROLD. It's up to you, Ronny.

KEITH, looking at JOAN, slowly emits smoke; and LATTER passing
his arm through JOAN'S, draws her away with him into the
billiard-room.

KEITH. Dot?

DOT. I'm not a squeamy squirrel.

KEITH. Anybody seen the girl since?

DOT. Yes.

HAROLD. Well?

DOT. She's just sitting there.

CHRISTINE. [In a hard voice] As we're all doing.

DOT. She's so soft, that's what's so horrible. If one could only
feel----!

KEITH. She's got to face the music like the rest of us.

DOT. Music! Squeaks! Ugh! The whole thing's like a concertina,
and some one jigging it!

They all turn as the door opens, and a FOOTMAN enters with a
tray of whiskey, gin, lemons, and soda water. In dead silence
the FOOTMAN puts the tray down.

HAROLD. [Forcing his voice] Did you get a run, Ronny? [As KEITH
nods] What point?

KEITH. Ei