MRS. TILSBURY. My manicure usually keeps me posted upon what is going on. She seems to know all the gossip about every one.
MRS. BROWN. The masseuse I had last winter when I was prostrated after Mr. Brown’s death was like that, but she found out such surprising things about people and excited me so much that the doctor stopped her coming. I used to lie awake all night after a massage instead of sleeping better as I was supposed to do.
MR. MELVIN. Are you not going to lend me another book, Miss Tilsbury?
MILDRED. I am afraid you are not sufficiently appreciative.
MR. MELVIN. I assure you my mind is open to conviction, only I don’t find Miss Slavinsky’s book convincing. You are not going to stop my education so soon as this surely. Backward and defective pupils are the most considered in these progressive times.
MRS. TILSBURY. (Speaking aside to MRS. BROWN.) Do something. He is making love to her before our very eyes.
MRS. BROWN. Here I go to the rescue. I did not know that Miss Slavinsky wrote books. I thought her vocation was to usher at the theatre.
MILDRED. That is what she is compelled to do, to support life, but her books are the expression of her soul.
MR. MELVIN. Are you so loyal to all your friends, Miss Tilsbury?