Roope.
I can sympathize with your feeling mortified at not scoring entirely off your own bat; but, deuce take it, your book is in its thirteenth edition!
Philip.
[Laughing wildly.] Ho, ho, ho! [Moving to the fireplace.] Ha, ha, ha, ha——!
Roope.
[Testily.] Oh, I'm glad I amuse you——!
Philip.
[Coming to the settee on the right.] You're marvellous, Robbie—incomparable——!
Roope.
[Again preparing to depart.] Indeed?