Roope.
[Rising.] Hey?
Philip.
[Laying his hands on Roope's shoulders.] If my next book—my autumn book—isn't a mighty go, I—I'll eat my hat.
Roope.
[Sadly.] Dear excellent friend, perhaps you'll be obliged to, for nourishment.
Philip.
Ha, ha, ha! [Taking Roope's arm.] Oddly enough—oddly enough, the story deals with the very subject we've been discussing.
Roope.
[Without enthusiasm.] Indeed?