DAN: And the same palpitations. You don't mind me talking about your
health, do you?

MRS. BRAMSON: No.

DAN: Well, d'you know, you ought to get used to letting _other_
people do things for you.

MRS. BRAMSON (_a great truth dawning on her_): Yes!

DAN: You ought to be very careful.

MRS. BRAMSON: Yes! (_After a pause, eyeing him as he smiles at
her_) You're a funny boy to be a page-boy.

DAN (_shyly_): D'you think so?

MRS. BRAMSON: Well, now I come to talk to you, you seem so much better
class--I mean, you know so much of the world--

DAN: I've knocked about a good bit, you know. Never had any advantages,
but I always tried to do the right thing.

MRS. BRAMSON (_patronisingly_): I think you deserve better--
(_sharply again_) Talking of the right thing, what about Dora?

DAN (_disarming_): Oh, I know I'm to blame; I'm not much of a
chap, but I'd put things straight like a shot if I had any money ...
But, you see, I work at the Tallboys, get thirty bob a week, with