OLIVIA (_her manner faintly hostile_): You're very observant.

DAN: Well, the ladies, you know ...

MRS. BRAMSON: If he weren't so observant, that Dora mightn't be in the
flummox she is now.

DAN (_cheerfully_): That's true, ma'am.

OLIVIA (_rising_): You don't sound very repentant.

DAN (_as she crosses, stiffly_): Well, what's done's done's my
motto, isn't it?

_She goes into the sun-room. He makes a grimace after her and holds
his left hand out, the thumb pointing downwards_.

MRS. BRAMSON: And what does that mean?

DAN: She's a nice bit of ice for next summer, isn't she?

MRS. BRAMSON: You're a proper one to talk about next summer, when Dora
there'll be up hill and down dale with a perambulator. Now look here,
young man, immorality--

MRS. TERENCE _comes in from the kitchen_.

MRS. TERENCE: The butcher wants paying. And 'e says there's men
ferreting at the bottom of the garden looking for that Mrs. Chalfont
and do you know about it.