Barlow. Thanks. Too late now. You said Billie wouldn’t wait after four thirty.
Yardsley. Did I say four thirty? I meant five thirty. Anyhow, Billie isn’t over-prompt. Better go.
Barlow. You seem mighty anxious to get rid of me.
Yardsley. I? Not at all, my dear boy—not at all. I’m very, very fond of you, but I thought you’d prefer opera to me. Don’t you see? That’s where my modesty comes in. You’re so fond of a good chat I thought you’d want to go to-night. Wilkins has a box.
Barlow. You said seats a little while ago.
Yardsley. Of course I did. And why not? There are seats in boxes. Didn’t you know that?
Barlow. Look here, Yardsley, what’s up, anyhow? You’ve been deuced queer to-day. What are you after?
Yardsley (tragically). Shall I confide in you? Can I, with a sense of confidence that you will not betray me?
Barlow (eagerly). Yes, Bob. Go on. What is it? I’ll never give you away, and I may be able to give you some good advice.
Yardsley. I am here to—to—to rob the house! Business has been bad, and one must live. [Barlow looks at him in disgust.