Barlow (coming forward). Wise man, cold weather like this. It would
be terrible if you let your mind go out in cold weather without
anything on it. Might catch cold in your idea.
Dorothy. I wonder why Jennie doesn't come? I shall have to ring
again.
[Pushes electric button again.
Yardsley (with an effort at brilliance). The kitchen belle doesn't
seem to work.
Dorothy. Ordinarily she does, but she seems to be upset by something
this afternoon. I'm afraid she's in love. If you will excuse me a
moment I will go and prepare the tea myself.
Barlow. Do; good! Then we shall not need the sugar.
Yardsley. You might omit the spoons too, after a remark like that,
Miss Dorothy.
Dorothy. We'll omit Mr. Barlow's spoon. I'll bring some for you and
me. [She goes out.
Yardsley (with a laugh). That's one on you, Barlow. But I say, old
man (taking out his watch and snapping the cover to three or four
times), it's getting very late--after five now. If you want to go
with Billy Wilkins you'd better take up your hat and walk. I'll say
good-bye to Miss Andrews for you.
Barlow. Thanks. Too late now. You said Billie wouldn't wait after
four thirty.
Yardsley. Did I say four thirty? I meant five thirty. Anyhow,
Billie isn't over-prompt. Better go.
Barlow. You seem mighty anxious to get rid of me.
Yardsley. I? Not at all, my dear boy--not at all. I'm very, very
fond of you, but I thought you'd prefer opera to me. Don't you see?
That's where my modesty comes in. You're so fond of a good chat I
thought you'd want to go to-night. Wilkins has a box.
Barlow. You said seats a little while ago.
Yardsley. Of course I did. And why not? There are seats in boxes.
Didn't you know that?
Barlow. Look here, Yardsley, what's up, anyhow? You've been deuced
queer to-day. What are you after?
Yardsley (tragically). Shall I confide in you? Can I, with a sense
of confidence that you will not betray me?
Barlow (eagerly). Yes, Bob. Go on. What is it? I'll never give
you away, and I _may_ be able to give you some good advice.
Yardsley. I am here to--to--to rob the house! Business has been
bad, and one must live. [Barlow looks at him in disgust.
Yardsley (mockingly). You have my secret, John Barlow. Remember
that it was wrung from me in confidence. You must not betray me.
Turn your back while I surreptitiously remove the piano and the gas-
fixtures, won't you?
Barlow (looking at him thoughtfully). Yardsley, I have done you an
injustice.
Yardsley. Indeed?
Barlow. Yes. Some one claimed, at the club, the other day, that you
were the biggest donkey in existence, and I denied it. I was wrong,
old man, I was wrong, and I apologize. You are.
Yardsley. You are too modest, Jack. You forget--yourself.
Barlow. Well, perhaps I do; but I've nothing to conceal, and you
have. You've been behaving in a most incomprehensible fashion this
afternoon, as if you owned the house.
Yardsley. Well, what of it? Do you own it?