class="ind">Viola. I think I do. Do you?

Alan. I don't know whether I believe in it, I like it.... Your line of life....

[Continues ad lib.

In the Drawing-room.

Albert. That boy is bewildering! He flits over every subject under the sun! Have a game of piquet, Averidge?

[They play piquet.

In the Billiard-room. Muriel playing the organ. Claude by her side trying to look like Dicksee's picture, "Harmony."

Claude. Do you ever have that curious feeling that you are doing exactly what you have done before, hearing—seeing something for the second time?

Muriel. Oh, yes! continually! I felt it during the whole of dinner!

Claude. Do you think it shows we knew each other in a previous existence, Miss Vane?

Muriel. No. I am afraid it only shows that you sometimes repeat yourself.

[She smiles.

Claude. How can you be so unkind, and yet look such a perfect angel!

Muriel. I feel exactly like St. Cecilia when I am playing the organ.

Claude. And I feel like St. Anthony, Miss Vane.

On the Terrace.

Alan. To get right away from people, to take a drive together, and bathe our heads in the golden sunlight! In secret! Do—do let us, Mrs. Travers!