Marie.
Don't speak of it, George, for I take great delight in having the
furniture moved about; and then, I say to myself: "Here is where they
will take their tea, and there they will while away their leisure
hours"--so---- But, what I meant to tell you! Yesterday we had an
accident--the large mirror in the parlor was broken. I know it portends
ill----
George.
What care I, so long as our friendship will not be broken.
Marie.
But why should it?
George.
It shall never be my fault, Marie.
Marie.
Certainly never mine. But what I wanted to say,--I had the large
mahogany bookcase repolished. Is that satisfactory?
George.
Anything you choose to do is satisfactory to me.
Marie.
[_Hesitatingly_.] And then--I must tell you, George, something
important. When I unpacked the bookcase, I found a blue manuscript.
George.
[_Unsuspecting_.] What kind of a manuscript?
Marie.
George, you must not leave that lying around--not even hidden behind
the books, especially now, when you take your wife to your home.
George.
In heaven's name, what manuscript?
Marie.