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BERTRAM.
A most painful scene for them, I mean t'say----
PHILIP.
A painful scene for you and Mr. Dunning.
BERTRAM.
_After_ dinner--when they've gone--you and I'll go down to Dunning----
PHILIP.
[_Flinging the poker into the grate and facing_ BERTRAM.] Confound you, you don't suppose I'm going to act on your suggestion, and grin through a long meal with this between us! [_Pointing to the telephone again._]
Ring him up, you treacherous little whelp--quick! [_Advancing._] If _you_ won't----!
BERTRAM.
[_Bristling._] Oh, very good! [_Pausing on his way to the telephone and addressing_ PHILIP _with an evil expression._] You were always a bully and a bl.u.s.terer, Mackworth; but, take my word for it, if you fancy you can bully Mr. Dunning, and bl.u.s.ter to my family, with any satisfactory results to yourself, you're vastly mistaken.
PHILIP.
[_Gruffly._] I beg your pardon; sorry I exploded.
BERTRAM.
[_Scowling._] It's of no consequence. [_At the telephone, his ear to the receiver._] I am absolutely indifferent to your vulgar abuse, I mean t'say.
[JOHN _announces_ ROOPE. _Note:_ ROOPE _and the rest of the guests divest themselves of their overcoats, wraps, etc., in the vestibule before entering the room._
JOHN.
Mr. Roope.
ROOPE.
[_Greeting_ PHILIP _as_ JOHN _withdraws._] Am I the first----?
PHILIP.
[_Glancing at_ BERTRAM.] No.
BERTRAM.
[_Speaking into the telephone._] Holborn, three eight nine eight.
ROOPE.
[_Waving his hand to Bertram._] Ah! How _are_ you, my dear Mr. Filson?
BERTRAM.
[_To_ ROOPE, _sulkily._] How'r you? Excuse me----
ROOPE.
[_To_ PHILIP.] My dear Phil, these excursions to the east are delightful; they are positively. The sights fill me with amazement.
I----
PHILIP.
[_Cutting him short by leading him to the fireplace._] Robbie----
ROOPE.
Hey?
PHILIP.
[_Grimly, dropping his voice._] Are you hungry?
ROOPE.
Dear excellent friend, since you put the question so plainly, I don't mind avowing that I _am_--devilish hungry. Why----?
PHILIP.
There may be a slight delay, old chap.
ROOPE.
Delay?
PHILIP.
Yes, the east hasn't exhausted its marvels yet, by a long chalk.
ROOPE.
[_Looking at him curiously._] Nothing the matter, Phil?
BERTRAM.
[_Suddenly, into the telephone._] That you, Dunning----?
PHILIP.
[_To_ ROOPE.] Robbie----
