Christine. I’ve got an idea it’s about the beheading of John the Baptist.

John. That’s certain to last an awful time! Ugh! You’re hurting me. Oh, I’m so sleepy, so sleepy!

Christine. Yes, what have you been doing all night? You look absolutely washed out.

John. I’ve been sitting here chatting with Miss Julie.

Christine. She doesn’t know what’s decent. My God! she doesn’t. [Pause.]

John. I say, Christine dear.

Christine. Well?

John. It’s awfully strange when one comes to think it over.

Christine. What’s so strange about her?

John. Everything. [Pause.]

Christine. [Looks at the glass which stands half empty on the table.] Did you drink together as well?

John. Yes.

Christine. Ugh! Look me in the face.

John. Yes.

Christine. Is it possible? Is it possible?

John. [After reflecting for a short time.] Yes, it is.

Christine. Crikey! I’d never have thought it, that I wouldn’t. No. Ugh! Ugh!

John. I take it you’re not jealous of her?

Christine. No, not of her; if it had been Clara or Sophie, yes, I should have been. Poor girl! Now, I tell you what. I won’t stay any longer in this house, where one can’t keep any respect for the gentry.

John. Why should one respect them?

Christine. Yes, and you, who are as sly as they’re made, ask me that. But will you serve people who carry on so improper? Why, one lowers oneself by doing it, it seems to me.

John. Yes, but it’s certainly a consolation for us that the others are no better than we are.