THE PRESS reverses the
notebook again and sketches him.]
PRESS. [To himself] Ah! That'll do. "Lord William examines the
foundations of his house."
[A voice calls "Bill!" THE PRESS snaps the note-book to, and
looks up. There, where the "communication trench" runs in,
stands a tall and elegant woman in the extreme of evening
dress.]
[With presence of mind] Lady William? You'll find Lord William
--Oh! Have you a photograph of him?
LADY W. Not on me.
PRESS. [Eyeing her] Er--no--I suppose not--no. Excuse me! [He
sidles past her and is gone.]
LADY W. [With lifted eyebrows] Bill!
LORD W. [Emerging, dusting his knees] Hallo, Nell! I was just
making sure there wasn't another bomb.
LADY W. Yes; that's why I came dawn: Who was that person?
LORD W. Press.
LADY W. He looked awfully yellow. I hope you haven't been giving
yourself away.
LORD W. [Dubiously] Well, I don't know. They're like corkscrews.
LADY W. What did he ask you?
LORD W. What didn't he?
LADY W. Well, what did you tell him?
LORD W. That I'd been baptised--but he promised not to put it down.
LADY W. Bill, you are absurd.
[She gives a light tittle laugh.]
LORD W. I don't remember anything else, except that it was quite
natural we should be bombed, don't you know.
LADY W. Why, what harm have we done?
LORD W.
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