We aren't going to quarrel about that.

PAMELA (holding out her hand to him). Come along. Of course we
aren't going to quarrel--I don't think I could quarrel with you for
more than five minutes. Only--you make me wonder sometimes.

GERALD (getting up and taking her arm). What do you wonder about?

PAMELA. Oh--things.

[They go out into the garden together.]



ACT II

[It is a quiet old-fashioned hotel which SIR JAMES and LADY
FARRINGDON patronize in Dover Street on their occasional visits to
London. Their private sitting-room is furnished in heavy early
Victorian style. A couple of gloomy palms help to decorate the
room, on whose walls are engravings of Landseer's masterpieces.]

[MASON, a faithful kindly body, once nurse, now familiar servant,
is at the table arranging flowers, in a gallant attempt to make the
room more cheerful. As she fills each vase she takes it to its
place, steps back to consider the effect, and returns to fill the
next one. GERALD, in London clothes as attractive as ever, but
looking none rather serious, discovers her at work.]

GERALD. Hullo, Nanny, when did you come?