STEPHEN takes one off sofa, and gives it to SWEET, and exits, L. C.
SWEET. It’s astonishing what an excitement I’ve worked myself into! (lashing the air with his whip) I hope my wife won’t happen to come in just now, I am hardly safe to be trusted with this whip.
SHORT. (outside) Are the lunch things taken away? I am almost famished.
SWEET. There he is, happy man!
Enter SHORT, door, L. C.
SHORT. (speaking as he comes in) Here, give me a chair! Give me a chair! I am tired to death—fussed and worried out of my life!
SWEET. Why, how late you are! We had almost given you up.
SHORT. You’re a pretty fellow to complain—here have I been chasing about the city all day on any empty stomach—I can’t neglect my business as you do, and then I’m to be told you had nearly given me up, forsooth. Here, Stephen, bring me up something or other to eat. Why you have hardly left a scrap upon the table—Stephen, some come meat! (sits in easy chair, L. of table, R.)
SWEET. What, are you going to make a heavy luncheon at this hour of the day. I am surprised at that habit of yours, Short, I rarely take anything between breakfast and dinner.