THE BARBER. (_Grimly_) You'll remember why! (_He helps him on
with his coat._) John, tell me: are fellows who are so brave with
women always so cowardly when they deal with men? Or, (_breaking
off, speaking slowly_), or, perhaps, was it on account of that
meeting?
THE CUSTOMER. That meeting? Good Lord!
THE BARBER. Yes, the meeting.
THE CUSTOMER. (_Looking at the clock_) Twenty-five minutes past!
I'm ruined! I'm ruined!
THE BARBER. (_Half to himself_) I didn't kill you, no! I left you
your life, but I made it worthless! I broke you! I broke you!
THE CUSTOMER. (_Has crossed stealthily to the door_) Kilburn!
THE BARBER. (_Startled at the sudden change in his voice_) Yes?
THE CUSTOMER. (_Hysterically_) Thought I was a fool, did you?
Thought I'd tell you the real time of the meeting?
THE BARBER. What do you mean?
THE CUSTOMER. (_Shrieking_) You ass! You idiot! The meeting
doesn't begin till _three-thirty!_
THE BARBER. (_Calmly_) Is that all? Well, the clock (_pointing to
it_) is half an hour slow.