Dexter. (sit on L. trunk) He has permitted me to compile a little volume of extracts, "The Mollentrave Birthday Book"—one coruscation for every day of the year. A good idea, is it not? (rising)
Miss Tre. (rising) Admirable! But I doubt whether many women will buy the book. (down R.)
Dexter. (moving off) If all those who consider themselves exceptions purchase it, Miss Treable, I shall be perfectly satisfied. (goes up C.)
(He goes through the gate. Sir Joseph comes stealthily along looking worried and haggard R. 3 E.)
Miss Tre. (R. C. brightly) Good morning, Sir Joseph.
Sir J. (C.) Good morning. I had hoped to find Mr. Mollentrave here. Do you happen to know—
Miss Tre. Would you wish me to tell him?
Sir J. I should be much obliged.
(Miss Treable exits R. 3 E.)
(Sir Joseph throws himself on the grass L. and plucks savagely at it, muttering to himself. After a moment Margaret comes running from the house R. 3 E., looks round, and gives a glad cry as she sees Sir J. The cry becomes reproachful when she finds he is lying on the grass. She carries a small basket in her hand.)