confidence between man and man alluded to her as the Chickabiddy. My
daughter Hypatia, who has always wanted some adventure to drop out of
the sky, and is now, I hope, satisfied at last. Lord Summerhays: a
man known wherever the British flag waves. His son Bentley, engaged
to Hypatia. Mr Joseph Percival, the promising son of three highly
intellectual fathers.

HYPATIA. _[startled]_ Bentley's friend? _[Bentley nods]._

TARLETON. _[continuing, to the passenger]_ May I now ask to be
allowed the pleasure of knowing your name?

THE PASSENGER. My name is Lina Szczepanowska _[pronouncing it
Sh-Chepanovska]._

PERCIVAL. Sh-- I beg your pardon?

LINA. Szczepanowska.

PERCIVAL. _[dubiously]_ Thank you.

TARLETON. _[very politely]_ Would you mind saying it again?

LINA. Say fish.

TARLETON. Fish.

LINA. Say church.

TARLETON. Church.

LINA. Say fish church.

TARLETON. _[remonstrating]_ But it's not good sense.

LINA. _[inexorable]_ Say fish church.

TARLETON. Fish church.

LINA. Again.

TARLETON. No, but--_[resigning himself]_ fish church.

LINA. Now say Szczepanowska.

TARLETON. Szczepanowska. Got it, by Gad. _[A sibilant whispering
becomes audible: they are all saying Sh-ch to themselves]._
Szczepanowska! Not an English name, is it?

LINA. Polish. I'm a Pole.

TARLETON. Ah yes. Interesting nation. Lucky people to get the
government of their country taken off their hands. Nothing to do but
cultivate themselves. Same as we took Gibraltar off the hands of the
Spaniards. Saves the Spanish taxpayer. Jolly good thing for us if
the Germans took Portsmouth. Sit down, wont you?

_The group breaks up. Johnny and Bentley hurry to the pavilion and
fetch the two wicker chairs. Johnny gives his to Lina. Hypatia and
Percival take the chairs at the worktable. Lord Summerhays gives the
chair at the vestibule end of the writing table to Mrs Tarleton; and
Bentley replaces it with a wicker chair, which Lord Summerhays takes.
Johnny remains standing behind the worktable, Bentley behind his
father._

MRS TARLETON. _[to Lina]_ Have some tea now, wont you?

LINA. I never drink tea.

TARLETON. _[sitting down at the end of the writing table nearest
Lina]_ Bad thing to aeroplane on, I should imagine. Too jumpy. Been
up much?

LINA. Not in an aeroplane. Ive parachuted; but thats child's play.

MRS TARLETON. But arnt you very foolish to run such a dreadful ris