[Taking the top off his boiled egg.] Simply deplorable. I’ve broken loose from my moorings. I’m at the mercy of every breeze. I feel that I’ve lost moral stability. Confound it, why doesn’t that champagne come?
Enter Evans, L., with champagne. Pours out two glasses and hands them to Gunning and Parbury.
Parbury.
I’m not quite certain that for a man like me—[Gunning groans and returns to his newspaper]—a man, if I may say so, of generous instincts and large sympathies—a groove isn’t a good thing, even if it be a little narrow. Of course, for a man of your nature, it’s a different matter.
Gunning.
[Suddenly puts down the paper, draws his chair closer to the table, and takes an egg with apparent cheerfulness.] What were you saying, old man?
Parbury.
Nothing.
Gunning.
[Affecting heartiness.] Let’s talk about you.