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No. I'm not feeling any better. I feel dreadful.
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Been, Uh, ice skating? Ice skating?
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No, no, George.
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Yes, yes, he's alright, of course.
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I know, darling, a talk, even a lovely long talk,
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is a poor substitute for holding tight and making drowsy.
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Nor making our own drowsies either,
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as we've had to do far too often lately.
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David, dinner?
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I'm on with Wallis!
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Bertie. No. No, it's not important.
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I don't want to! No!