Dilly. Ay, that he was and is. But times have sadly changed. Illness has almost unsettled his reason.
Harry. (Starting up.) Gracious heavens!
Dilly. How you startle me! What ails you?
Harry. (Recovering himself.) Nothing, nothing. I’m very old, and the fear of losing my reason haunts me. When you spoke of that old man, you startled me. I beg your pardon.
Dilly. Well, sit down. If you don’t eat, I shall fear you are not pleased with what I have prepared.
Harry. But I do eat (eating ravenously); don’t you see I do? I’m very hungry. (After a pause.) Dr. Harlem,—are you his daughter?
Dilly. Oh, no! His daughter Lucy is on the lake.
Harry. But didn’t he have a son?
Dilly. Yes, he has a son.