BUILDER'S face in the mirror over the fireplace. It is, however,
comfortable, and has large leather chairs and a writing table in the
centre, on which is a typewriter, and many papers. At the back is a
large window with French outside shutters, overlooking the street,
for the house is an old one, built in an age when the homes of
doctors, lawyers and so forth were part of a provincial town, and
not yet suburban. There are two or three fine old prints on the
walls, Right and Left; and a fine, old fireplace, Left, with a
fender on which one can sit. A door, Left back, leads into the
dining-room, and a door, Right forward, into the hall.

JOHN BUILDER is sitting in his after-breakfast chair before the fire
with The Times in his hands. He has breakfasted well, and is in
that condition of first-pipe serenity in which the affairs of the.
nation seem almost bearable. He is a tallish, square, personable
man of forty-seven, with a well-coloured, jowly, fullish face,
marked under the eyes, which have very small pupils and a good deal
of light in them. His bearing has force and importance, as of a man
accustomed to rising and ownerships, sure in his opinions, and not
lacking in geniality when things go his way. Essentially a
Midlander. His wife, a woman of forty-one, of ivory tint, with a
thin, trim figure and a face so strangely composed as to be almost
like a mask (essentially from Jersey) is putting a nib into a
pen-holder, and filling an inkpot at the writing-table.

As the curtain rises CAMILLE enters with a rather broken-down
cardboard box containing flowers. She is a young woman with a good
figure, a pale face, the warm brown eyes and complete poise of a
Frenchwoman. She takes the box to MRS BUILDER.