mean to tell me that there has been no scandal in connection with the Central African Mission?

Penelope.

[Smiling.] I’m dreadfully sorry to disappoint you, mother.

Golightly.

And what in heaven’s name made you wire decimal 7035 to me?

Penelope.

Oh, that’s our telephone number, and I just put decimal instead of Gerrard.

Golightly.

I thought the figures were strangely familiar.

Penelope.

And there you are, you see.

Barlow.

[Chuckling.] I think it’s a capital idea. And she just flung the words six and eightpence at you, Beadsworth, and knew she’d fetch the lawyer.

Penelope.

[To Beadsworth.] You’re not cross with me, are you?

Barlow.

And now, my dear, that you’ve disposed of them, tell me all about the Archduchess Anastasia.

Penelope.

[Looking at him blankly.] The Archduchess Anastasia? But I invented her.

Barlow.

What d’you mean, you invented her? I know her well, I’ve known her for years. I know her whole family.

Penelope.

[Rather embarrassed, but trying not to laugh.] Well, you see—I wanted you to come, too. And....

Barlow.

I don’t understand what you mean at all, Penelope. You mention one of my most intimate friends, and then you tell me you invented her.

Penelope.

I’m awfully sorry. I really didn’t know there was such a person, and I thought I’d made her up out of my own head.... [With a chuckle.] I think it was rather clever of me to hit upon some one you know so well.

Barlow.

I don’t know why you should think the mere mention of the Archduchess’s name would make me come here.

Penelope.

Well, you see, I know that you go out a great deal, and you know such crowds of people. I felt quite sure that if there were an Archduchess Anastasia you’d know her, and [with a wave of the hand] well, there it is you see.

Mrs. Golightly.

Now, Penelope, tell us what you really do want.

Penelope.

[In matter-of-fact tones.] I want to divorce Dickie.

Mrs. Golightly.

What!

Golightly.

My dear child.

Barlow.

Good gracious!

Penelope.

[Ruefully.] I intended to make such a scene, and now you’ve made me blurt it all out in three words.

Mrs. Golightly.

But I don’t understand.

Penelope.

I’ll say it again, shall I? I want to divorce Dickie.

Beadsworth.

You don’t really mean it, do you?

Penelope.