Frépeau, whose motives, between ourselves, are not altogether above--
Oh, are you there, Father? I didn't see you. I'm just off to play
tennis. [_Exit_.

_Enter_ Renée de Rould.

_Renée_. Mr. Mérital, may I speak to you a moment?

_Georges Alexandre Mérital (with, characteristic suavity_). Certainly.

_Renée_, I love you. Will you marry me?

_Mérital (surprised_). Well, really--this is--I--you--we--er, he,
she, they--Frankly, you embarrass me. (_Apologetically_) This is my
embarrassed face.

_Renée_. But I thought you loved me. Don't you?

_Mérital_. No. That is to say, yes. Or rather--

_Renée (tearfully_). I w-wish you could make it plainer whether you
d-do love me and are pretending you don't, or you d-don't love me and
are pretending you do. It's v-very unsettling for a young girl not to
know.

_Sir GEORGES ALEXANDRE (surprised and a little hurt_). Can't you tell
from my face?

_Miss MARTHA HEDMAN_. This is my first appearance in England, Sir
GEORGES.