'Dinner is served, madam.'

RICHARDSON, who will probably be a great duchess some day, 'I don't
mind if I does have a snack.' She places herself at the table after
what she conceives to be the manner of the genteelly gluttonous; then
she quakes a little. 'If Missis was to catch me.' She knows that
Missis is probably sitting downstairs with her arms folded, hopeful of
the chop for herself.

STEVE. 'You tuck in and I'll keep watch.'

He goes to the door to peer over the banisters; it is all part of the
game. Richardson promptly tucks in with horrid relish.

RICHARDSON. 'What makes you so good to me, sir?'

STEVE. 'A gentleman is always good to a lady.'

RICHARDSON, preening, 'A lady? Go on.'

STEVE. 'And when I found that at my dinner hour you were subject to
growing pains I remembered my own youth. Potatoes, madam?'

RICHARDSON, neatly, 'If quite convenient.'

The kindly young man surveys her for some time in silence while she
has various happy adventures.

STEVE. 'Can I smoke, Richardson?'