VALENTINE. Yes. I was going to ask whether you were by any chance a
daughter of Mr. Densmore Clandon of Newbury Hall.

DOLLY (vacantly). No.

PHILIP. Well come, Dolly: how do you know you're not?

DOLLY (cheered). Oh, I forgot. Of course. Perhaps I am.

VALENTINE. Don't you know?

PHILIP. Not in the least.

DOLLY. It's a wise child ---

PHILIP (cutting her short). Sh! (Valentine starts nervously; for
the sound made by Philip, though but momentary, is like cutting a sheet
of silk in two with a flash of lightning. It is the result of long
practice in checking Dolly's indiscretions.) The fact is, Mr.
Valentine, we are the children of the celebrated Mrs. Lanfrey Clandon,
an authoress of great repute - in Madeira. No household is complete
without her works. We came to England to get away from them. The are
called the Twentieth Century Treatises.

DOLLY. Twentieth Century Cooking.

PHILIP. Twentieth Century Creeds.

DOLLY. Twentieth Century Clothing.