Blith. (noting Dibbs and taking off hat). Oh, I beg pardon!
Dibbs. Waiting for the governor, mister?
Blith. Yes, Mr. (looks in hat)—Mr. Selwyn!
Dibbs (aside). Whew! Suppose this should be that Tompkins, the owner of the hat! The parlor-maid opened the door to you, eh, sir?
Blith. Yes, I presume so. She said I should find Mr. (looking in hat)—Selwyn in this room.
Dibbs. That’s where she’s wrong! The governor has gone out!
Blith. I’m sorry!
Dibbs. He may not be back for some time; if you were to drop in again, in a week or two perhaps?
Blith. Pardon me, young man, but Mr. Selwyn’s daughter just told me her father was at home!
Dibbs (aside). The devil she did? That’s a doubler-up for master! (He strikes forehead and paces up and down.)