Kathryn. This suspense is killing me. I know I look like a tableau.
Gloria. My dear, your dress is too low! You must not show your neck until late in the evening, or at least until the lights are turned on and everyone is looking.
Jane. I am glad we have chosen so large a boat. I feel as though I weighed a ton already.
Kathryn. I will not wait one moment longer. No! not for the Empress of Egypt, if there is such a thing. (Goes forward.) Dill can bring the bundles. (They follow her to the door, only to recoil in astonishment as Col. Christopher Crapsey appears. He is prodding Dill with his sword which he sheathes gallantly upon beholding Kathryn. The others he salutes sternly. In fact he salutes at every opportunity, his chief occupation being apparently this same salute, preceded each time by three mighty strides and heels together in approved military fashion. He has all the vulgar airs of a soldier, of even a retired soldier.)
Crapsey (after saluting everybody and everything in sight). Col. Christopher Crapsey—retired Army officer—Socialist—and—(delves into pocket for card).
Gloria. The tray, Dill—the tray! (The effect produced by the mention of the word Crapsey stuns everyone, with the exception of Kathryn and Dill, who have no knowledge of what a really interesting person the Colonel is. Jane, of course, was expecting him. But Hargrave was not, and, after adjusting his glasses and taking one furtive glance, he disappears up the chimney.)
Dill (bowing deeply). I must observe for the second time, sir, that your bearing is most soldierly.
Crapsey (drawing sword). Silence, sir. (Empties seven or eight cards on tray and again repeats the ominous words.) Col. Christopher Crapsey, retired Army officer!—Socialist—and—
Kathryn (to Jack). I am so surprised—I thought the men of war were all at sea, and fighting with their wives, or with themselves.
Jack (audibly). I think the man's a fool.