GUY. Now—directly.
MRS BUILDER. [Quietly] Are you married to her?
GUY. Yes. That is—no—o; not altogether, I mean.
BUILDER. What's that? Say that again!
GUY. [Folding his arms] I'm not going to say another word.
BUILDER. I am.
MRS BUILDER. John—please!
BUILDER. Don't put your oar in! I've had wonderful patience so far. [He puts his boot through a drawing] Art! This is what comes of it! Are you an artist?
GUY. No; a flying man. The truth is—
BUILDER. I don't want to hear you speak the truth. I'll wait for my daughter.