]
MRS. GWYN. Ugh! You're quite clammy, Joy.
JOY. It's enough to make any one clammy.
[Her eyes go back to LEVER'S face as though to stab him.]
ERNEST. [From the swing.] I say, you know, the glass is going down.
LEVER. [Suavely.] The glass in the hall's steady enough.
ERNEST. Oh, I never go by that; that's a rotten old glass.
COLONEL. Oh! is it?
ERNEST. [Paying no attention.] I've got a little ripper--never puts
you in the cart. Bet you what you like we have thunder before
tomorrow night.
MISS BEECH. [Removing her gaze from JOY to LEVER.] You don't think
we shall have it before to-night, do you?
LEVER. [Suavely.] I beg your pardon; did you speak to me?
MISS BEECH. I said, you don't think we shall have the thunder before
to-night, do you?
[She resumes her watch on joy.]
LEVER. [Blandly.] Really, I don't see any signs of it.
[Joy, crossing to the rug, flings herself down. And DICK sits
cross-legged, with his eyes fast fixed on her.]
MISS BEECH. [Eating.] People don't often see what they don't want
to, do they?
[LEVER only lifts his brows.]
MRS. GWYN. [Quickly breaking ivy.] What are you talking about? The
weather's perfect.
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