Jane. Yes, the rent's up.
Kathryn. What idiots we all are.
Gloria. Dill! Come here! Did you not tell my daughter in that letter that you were an idiot?
Dill. I did, my dearest, indeed.
Kathryn. Oh, the letter! And now I've lost it—what a shame. I always read letters backward and never did read more than the last paragraph anyway. But it's the only letter from my father that I ever had and I feel the loss of it already.
Dill. Never fear, Miss Kathryn. I will write you another. (He thinks long and earnestly, but fails to write.)
Jane. I have a present for you, Jack. (Gives him a bag similar to Gloria's.) It was left me by my father, but with disclosures of a nature which I could not countenance. (At R.) I could never own up to forty, Peter; never, never, never, if I were a hundred.
Jack. You must never own up to thirty, Jane; I shall feel so very old when you do so. (To Kathryn.) Don't you think we might get married after all, dear? It is terrible to have so much money and not know what to do with it.
Kathryn. Yes, love is very beautiful, isn't it?
Jack (pulling other bag from trunk). I knew I should succeed some day, Jane; and I cannot thank either you or your sister one-half enough.