Thus, catching one another all round, they all
look at nothing and are quite at a loss. Crampton looks about him,
waiting for them to begin. The silence becomes unbearable.)
DOLLY (suddenly, to keep things going). How old are you, Mr.
Crampton?
GLORIA (hastily). I am afraid we must be going, Mr. Valentine. It
is understood, then, that we meet at half past one. (She makes for the
door. Philip goes with her. Valentine retreats to the bell.)
VALENTINE. Half past one. (He rings the bell.) Many thanks. (He
follows Gloria and Philip to the door, and goes out with them.)
DOLLY (who has meanwhile stolen across to Crampton). Make him give
you gas. It's five shillings extra: but it's worth it.
CRAMPTON (amused). Very well. (Looking more earnestly at her.) So
you want to know my age, do you? I'm fifty-seven.
DOLLY (with conviction). You look it.
CRAMPTON (grimly). I dare say I do.
DOLLY. What are you looking at me so hard for? Anything wrong?
(She feels whether her hat is right.)
CRAMPTON. You're like somebody.
DOLLY. Who?
CRAMPTON. Well, you have a curious look of my mother.
DOLLY (incredulously). Your mother!!! Quite sure you don't mean
your daughter?
CRAMPTON (suddenly blackening with hate). Yes: I'm quite sure I
don't mean my daughter.
DOLLY (sympathetically).
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