Rembrandt—Rembrandt!
(Door opens, enter MRS. TEMPENNY; followed by MRS. SYLVESTER.)
MRS. TEMPENNY.
He isn't here. Come in, dear; I am sure he will be pleased to see you—we will wait.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
My husband hates to be disturbed in his studio. He says he can never work again all day.
MRS. TEMPENNY.
Artists are so different; Mr. Sylvester is more highly strung than Rembrandt, I sometimes think. Rembrandt likes to see his friends in his studio. I wonder where he has gone.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Gone to have a drink, I daresay.