[At rise: GERALD, in evening clothes, reading in front of fire.]

GER. [Stretching, and sighing.] Ah, me! I wish I'd stayed at the club.
Bother their dinner parties!

MRS. IS. [Enters right, a nervous, fussy little woman, in evening
costume.] Well, Gerald . . .

GER. Yes, mother?

MRS. IS. You're not coming to dinner?

GER. You don't need me, mother. You've men enough, you said.

MRS. IS. I like to see something of my son now and then.

GER. I had my lunch very late, and I'm honestly not hungry. I'd rather
sit and read.

MRS. IS. I declare, Gerald, you run this reading business into the
ground. You cut yourself off from everyone.

GER. They don't miss me, mother.

MRS. IS. To-night Renaud is going to give us some crabflake a la
Dewey! I told Mrs. Bagley-Willis I'd show her what crabflake could be.
She is simply green with envy of our chef.

GER. I fancy that's the reason you invite her, isn't it?