MISS BEECH. [Sidling close to him and in a violent whisper.] Well--
have a go!
DICK. Really? You are a brick, Peachey!
[He kisses her.]
MISS BEACH. [Yielding pleasurably; then remembering her principles.]
Don't you ever say I said so! You're too young, both of you.
DICK. But it is exceptional--I mean in my case, is n't it?
[The COLONEL and MRS. GWYN are coming down the lawn.]
MISS BEECH. Oh! very!
[She sits beneath the tree and fans herself.]
COLONEL. The girls are all sitting out, Dick! I've been obliged to
dance myself. Phew!
[He mops his brow.]
[DICK swinging round goes rushing off towards the house.]
[Looking after him.] Hallo! What's the matter with him? Cooling
your heels, Peachey? By George! it's hot. Fancy the poor devils in
London on a night like this, what? [He sees the moon.] It's a full
moon. You're lucky to be down here, Molly.
MRS. GWYN. [In a low voice.] Very!
MISS BEECH. Oh! so you think she's lucky, do you?
COLONEL. [Expanding his nostrils.] Delicious scent to-night! Hay
and roses--delicious.
[He seats himself between them.]
A shame that poor child has knocked up like this. Don't think it was
the sun myself--more likely neuralgic--she 's subject to neuralgia,
Molly.
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