Yardsley. But you hope to. Well, I have no such mercenary motive.
I'm not after the house.
Barlow (bristling up). After the house? Mercenary motive? I demand
an explanation of those words. What do you mean?
Yardsley. I mean this, Jack Barlow: I mean that I am here for--for
my own reasons; but you--you have come here for the purpose of--
Dorothy enters wish a tray, upon which are the tea things.
Barlow (about to retort to Yardsley, perceiving Dorothy). Ah! Let
me assist you.
Dorothy. Thank you so much. I really believe I never needed help
more. (She delivers the tray to Barlow, who sets it on the table.
Dorothy, exhausted, drops into a chair.) Fan me--quick--or I shall
faint. I've--I've had an awful time, and I really don't know what to
do!
Barlow and Yardsley (together). Why, what's the matter?
Yardsley. I hope the house isn't on fire?
Barlow. Or that you haven't been robbed?
Dorothy. No, no; nothing like that. It's--it's about Jennie.
Yardsley (nervously). Jennie? Wha--wha--what's the matter with
Jennie?