Hargrave. So come, let's to more serious things. You said my brother was getting married?
Jack. It's a man's malady, father.
Hargrave (suddenly). Jack! I have a thought! (Steps forward.) Could it be possible?
Jack. You slight yourself, father.
Hargrave (meditating). He is not marrying out of love. No! My brother would never do that. He must be marrying out of his—
Jack. Out of his senses, father. All men do that.
Hargrave (gyrating in circles). The will! the will! Oh, he must know, he must! The estate was left to him on condition that he was married, and that's why he's marrying now. (Pulls large pair of colored glasses from his pocket.) The will! Show me the will!
Jack. I knew you hadn't lost them. The old rarely lose anything. They have nothing to lose.
Hargrave (teeming with excitement). The will! the will!
Jack (reaching in hip pocket, coat pocket, hip pocket). Yes, father. (Repeats the experiment.) No, father. (Subsides into chair.)