1st Student.
Edward, you see that long, lank, thread-bare man?
There is a character for that same novel
You talk of thunder-striking London with,
One of these days.
2nd St.
I scarcely noticed him;
I was so taken with the lovely child.
She is angelic.
3rd St.
You see angels always,
Where others, less dim-sighted, see but mortals.
She is a pretty child. Her eyes are splendid.
I wonder what the old fellow is about.
Some crazed enthusiast, music-distract,
That lingers at the door he cannot enter!
Give him an obol, Frank, to pay old Charon,
And cross to the Elysium of sweet sounds.
Here's mine.
1st St.
And mine.
2nd St.
And mine.
[3rd Student offers the money to JULIAN.]
Julian
(very quietly).
No, thank you, sir.
Lily.
Oh! there is mother!
[Stretching-her hands toward a lady stepping out of a carriage.]
Julian.
No, no; hush, my child!