Jane. He has been guilty of the grossest deception.
Kathryn. Of the very grossest deception. We could never trust him now. (They lock arms and saunter across the stage together.)
Gloria. He has! The Convolvulus is nothing but a Morning Glory, and I was named after it. If I were not so very stationary I should pick some now. I should pick a whole bundle of them.
Kathryn (most severely). Your father does not wear glasses. You must promise never to say such a thing again.
Jack. And to think that of all days father should have chosen this one to forget his glasses.
Jane. Love is blind, Jack. (Enter Dill out of breath.) Perhaps that explains it.
Dill. Mr. Hargrave, Miss Kathryn.
A white flower peeps clumsily from Hargrave's buttonhole. He wears the usual vest and has the unusual voice of a member of the clergy. His hair is long, and as he has apparently forgotten his glasses, he stands in the doorway quite, quite confused.
Kathryn (running up to him). Oh, you dear, dear man! (Takes his hand.) Of course you don't wear them, do you? (Calling.) Jack, let me introduce you to your father. Mr. Hargrave, let me introduce you to your son.
Hargrave (groping about and wiping his forehead uneasily). My son?