Myra
Very well; give me some plain soda-water, then.
David
Going to side table.
There isn’t any ice—d’you mind?
Myra
Not a bit.
David
Bringing her drink.
Here you are.
Myra
Thank you. I wonder where everybody is.
She sips it.
David
Not here, thank God.
Myra
It must be dreadfully worrying for you, having a houseful of people.
David
Having poured himself out a whisky-and-soda, sits down by her side.
It depends on the people.
Myra
I have a slight confession to make.
David
Confession?
Myra
Yes. Do you know why I came down here?