Austin. Up to her brother.
Mrs. Tillman. Her father's been locked up in his study for three hours—he says thinking, but to me his eyes look very suspicious!
[Taking her husband's arm affectionately.
Tillman. [Clears his throat.] Nonsense!
Mrs. Tillman. Well, how many cigars did you smoke?
Tillman. Eight.
Mrs. Tillman. The amount of emotion that a man can soak out of himself with tobacco is wonderful! He uses it just like a sponge!
Tillman. Jack, the first thing I asked about you when I heard that—er—that things were getting this way was, does he smoke? A man who smokes has always that outlet. If things go wrong—go out and smoke a cigar, and when the cigar's finished, ten to one everything's got right, somehow! If you lose your temper, don't speak!—a cigar, and when it's finished, then speak! You'll find the temper all gone up in the smoke! A woman's happiness is safest with a man who smokes. [He clears his throat, which is filling.] God bless you, Jack, it is a wrench; our only girl, you know. She's been a great joy—ahem!
[He quickly gets out a cigar.
Mrs. Tillman. [Stopping him from smoking.] No, no, dear, they're going now!