(Enter Tarver in evening dress, dejectedly, R.U., coming down center.)
Aunt Ida. What an extraordinary proceeding.
Phyllis. (Running up to Bobby and taking him by the arm) Oh! Bobby, Bobby! What news?
Tarver. Well, I'm afraid it's hopeless, though I spoke with singular force. (Sits in chair left of table R.)
A
Phyllis. (Stands L. of chair, L. of table R.) Oh, Bobby, how splendid of you! How did you put it?
Tarver. In the form of a question. I said to your father, "Are you aware, sir, that I love your daughter and wish to make her mine?"
Evelyn. What did Father say?
Tarver. Oh, he said, "Has it escaped your observation, sir, that I still have two marriageable daughters?"
Phyllis. (Protestingly) But he hasn't, he hasn't.