McComas, with his brow opener than ever, confronts him in
the majesty of a spotless conscience.)
WAITER (aside, as he passes Philip on his way out). I've broke it to
him, sir.
PHILIP. Invaluable William! (He passes on to the table.)
DOLLY (aside to the waiter). How did he take it?
WAITER (aside to her). Startled at first, miss; but resigned---very
resigned, indeed, miss. (He takes the stick and coat into the hotel.)
McCOMAS (having stared Crampton out of countenance). So here you
are, Mr. Crampton.
CRAMPTON. Yes, here--caught in a trap--a mean trap. Are those my
children?
PHILIP (with deadly politeness). Is this our father, Mr. McComas?
McCOMAS. Yes--er--- (He loses countenance himself and stops.)
DOLLY (conventionally). Pleased to meet you again. (She wanders
idly round the table, exchanging a smile and a word of greeting with
Valentine on the way.)
PHILIP. Allow me to discharge my first duty as host by ordering your
wine. (He takes the wine list from the table. His polite attention,
and Dolly's unconcerned indifference, leave Crampton on the footing of
the casual acquaintance picked up that morning at the dentist's. The
consciousness of it goes through the father with so keen a pang that he
trembles all over; his brow becomes wet; and he stares dumbly at his
son, who, just conscious enough of his own callousness to intensely
enjoy the humor and adroitness of it, proceeds pleasantly.
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