(Robert Hood enters. He is a well set-up, attractive young man about thirty. As he glances impatiently at his watch, it is evident he is ill at ease and under the stress of an unusual emotion. Though he carries a Museum catalogue it is soon apparent he has come for a rendezvous.
Sarah soon disappears from view—scrubbing.)
Hood
I beg your pardon. Is this where the Brontosaurus lives?
Professor
Yes. (Proudly) This is the Brontosaurus.
Hood
(Indifferently)
Oh, is it? Thanks.