LESLIE. [a little short of breath.] Where’s that fool? Thought I’d come and give you a good-bye kiss, old fellow. I would cry, but I’ve only brought one handkerchief.
MAGGIE. Lily will lend you one of Charley’s. But won’t you miss the 8.15? Do be careful.
LESLIE. Miss Maggie, I’ll tell you a great, an awful secret. [He goes to her and says in a loud whisper.] I mean to miss it.
MAGGIE. I don’t believe it—you couldn’t do such a thing.
LESLIE. [to CHARLEY.] Well, Wilson, how is it? You look—
CHARLEY. [curtly.] I’m all right. You don’t expect me to laugh all the time, do you?
LESLIE. Certainly not. I’m afraid you’re still pining for the flesh pots—or is it cocoanuts—
CHARLEY. No, it’s gourds—
TENNANT. Tin mugs, you mean.
LESLIE. Take my word for it, before a week’s out, you’ll be thankful you’re sitting opposite your own best tea service, on a Sunday afternoon.