GERVASE. Hail to thee, blithe spirit!
SUSAN (eagerly). I take you, I take you! Shelley! Ah, there's a poet, Mr.—er—I don't think I quite caught your name.
GERVASE. Oh! My name's Gervase Mallory—to be referred to by posterity, I hope, as the great Gervase.
SUSAN. Not a poet, too?
GERVASE. Well, no, not professionally.
SUSAN. But one with the poets in spirit—like myself. I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Mallory. It is most good-natured of you to converse with me. My name is Susan, (GERVASE bows.) Generally called Master Susan in these parts, or sometimes Gentleman Susan. I am a travelling Peddler by profession.
GERVASE. A delightful profession, I am sure.
SUSAN. The most delightful of all professions. (He begins to undo his pack,) Speaking professionally for the moment, if I may so far venture, you are not in any need of boot-laces, buttons, or collar-studs?
GERVASE (smiling). Well, no, not at this actual moment. On almost any other day perhaps—but no, not this morning.
SUSAN. I only just mentioned it in passing—en passant, as the French say. (He brings out a paper bag from his pack.) Would the fact of my eating my breakfast in this pleasant resting place detract at all from your appreciation of the beautiful day which Heaven has sent us?