GERALD. Yes, it's rough on you and mother.
LADY FARRINGDON. I don't mind about myself, dear. It's you I feel
so sorry for--and Bob, of course.
GERALD. I don't see how it's going to affect _me_.
SIR JAMES. In the Foreign Office one has to be like Caesar's wife--
above suspicion.
GERALD. Yes, but in this case it's Caesar's brother-in-law's
partner who's the wrong un. I don't suppose Caesar was so
particular about _him_.
LADY FARRINGDON. I don't see how Caesar comes into it at all.
SIR JAMES (kindly). I spoke in metaphors, dear.
[The door opens and WENTWORTH appears.]
GERALD. Come in, Wentworth. Where's Bob?
WENTWORTH. I dropped him at his rooms--a letter or something he
wanted to get. But he'll be here directly. (Nervously) How do you
do, Lady Farringdon? How do you do, Sir James?
SIR JAMES. Ah, Wentworth.
(There is an awkward silence and nobody seems to know what to say.)
WENTWORTH. Very hot this morning.
SIR JAMES. Very hot. Very.
(There is another awkward silence.)
WENTWORTH. This is quite a good hotel. My mother always stays here
when she's in London.
SIR JAMES. Ah, yes. We use it a good deal ourselves.
LADY FARRINGDON. How is Mrs. Wentworth?
WENTWORTH. She's been keeping very well this summer, thank you.
LADY FARRINGDON. I'm so glad.
(There is another awkward silence.
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