Act I

We never attempt to look after people when they come here.

Why should we? It’s loathsome being looked after.

Yes, but people like little attentions. We’ve never once asked anyone if they’ve slept well.

I consider that an impertinence, anyhow.

I’m going to try to improve.

You’re only going on like this because you’ve got a mania for a diplomatist. You’ll soon return to normal.

Abnormal, Simon⁠—that’s what we are. Abnormal. People stare in astonishment when we say what we consider perfectly ordinary things. I just remarked at Freda’s lunch the other day how nice it would be if someone invented something to make all our faces go up like the Chinese, because I was so bored with them going down⁠—and they all thought I was mad!

It’s no use worrying, darling; we see things differently, I suppose, and if people don’t like it they must lump it.

Mother’s been awfully restless lately.