ALLEN. (c.) Oh, I be spry enough. (Crossing before him and shaking hands with Clara, and keeping her hand.) I think us’ll have a pleasant day.
CLARA. (r. looking tenderly at him.) I’m sure we shall. (Crosses to sofa, stands at head of it.)
DEX. Well, you young folks will, I know, and the old folks will be happy looking on. (Sitting, and taking Clara’s hand in his and fondling it. Allen crosses r.) To see his little girl happy, that’s always happiness enough for old Jack Dexter.
CLARA. (Leaning over and kissing the top of his hand.) Silly old dad.
DEX. (Taking out his handkerchief and pretending to weep.) Ah, like her mother—like her mother.
ALLEN. (r. c., laughs nervously.) Her—her mother must ha’ been rare beautiful, mustn’t her?
DEX. (c. rising and taking Allen by the hand.) Thank you,—ah, Mr. Rollitt, you have never known the blessing of a wife—(Clara looks at him)—you do not understand the feelings of a widower. (Weeping.)
ALLEN. No—but—(laughing)—but—I hopes to one day; no—no—I don’t mean that—I—(confused)—Have thee had breakfast? (Clara sits on the soft L.)
DEX. Yes, thank you, Allen, my boy.
ALLEN. (Cheerfully.) Have another.