SYBIL [drawling]. Please don't trouble him. We are really only
waiting till my brother recovers and can take us back to our hotel.

MAGGIE. I'll tell him.

[She is glad to disappear up the stair.]

COMTESSE. The lady seems distressed. Is she a relation of Mr. Shand?

DAVID. Not for to say a relation. She's my sister. Our name is Wylie.

[But granite quarries are nothing to them.]

COMTESSE. How do you do. You are the committee man of Mr. Shand?

DAVID. No, just friends.

COMTESSE [gaily to the basins]. Aha! I know you. Next, please! Sybil,
do you weigh yourself, or are you asleep?

[LADY SYBIL has sunk indolently into a weighing-chair.]

SYBIL. Not quite, Auntie.

COMTESSE [the mirror of la politesse]. Tell me all about Mr. Shand.
Was it here that he--picked up the pin?

DAVID. The pin?