ANABEL. Yes, in France I was very ill.

OLIVER. Your old neuritis?

ANABEL. No. My chest. Pneumonia--oh, a complication.

OLIVER. How sickening! Who looked after you? Is it better?

ANABEL. Yes, it's a great deal better.

OLIVER. But, Anabel--we must fix a meeting. I say, wait just a
moment. Could I call on your people? Go into town with me one day.
I don't know whether Gerald intends to see you--whether he intends
to ask you to Lilley Close.

GERALD. Oh, it's all right.

ANABEL. He's no need. I'm fixed up there already.

GERALD. What do you mean?

ANABEL. I am at Lilley Close every day--or most days--to work with
your sister Winifred in the studio.

GERALD. What?--why, how's that?

ANABEL. Your father asked me. My father was already giving her some
lessons.

GERALD. And you're at our house every day?