Yardsley (turning sharply about). Eh? Somebody spoke my name. A man, too. Great Heavens! I hope Jennie's friend Hicks isn't here. I don't want to have a scene with Hicks. (Discovering Barlow.) Oh—ah—why—hullo, Barlow! You here?
Barlow (impatiently, aside). Hang it! Yardsley's here too! The man's always turning up when he's not wanted. (Aloud.) Ah! why, Bob, how are you? What're you doing here?
Yardsley. What do you suppose—tuning the piano? I'm here because I want to be. And you?
Barlow. For the same reason that you are.
Yardsley (aside). Gad! I hope not. (Aloud.) Indeed? The great mind act again? Run in the same channel, and all that? Glad to see you. (Aside.) May the saints forgive me that fib! But this fellow must be got rid of.
Barlow (embarrassed). So'm I. Always glad to see myself—I mean you—anywhere. Won't you sit down?
Yardsley. Thanks. Very kind of you, I'm sure. (Aside.) He seems very much at home. Won't I sit down?—as if he'd inherited the chairs! Humph! I'll show him.
Barlow. What say?
Yardsley. I—ah—oh, I was merely remarking that I thought it was rather pleasant out to-day.
Barlow. Yes, almost too fine to be shut up in-doors. Why aren't you driving, or—or playing golf, or—ah—or being out-doors somewhere? You need exercise, old man; you look a little pale. (Aside.) I must get him away from here somehow. Deuced awkward having another fellow about when you mean to propose to a woman.