The Bicyclers and Three Other Farces

by John Kendrick Bangs

Barlow (quietly). Excuse me—ah—Mrs. Hawkins—ah—Bradley—but I’m not—I’m not your husband.

Mrs. Bradley (looking up, tragically). Where’s Edward?

Mrs. Perkins. Sit down, dear—you must be completely worn out.

Mrs. Bradley (in alarm). Where is he?

Perkins (rising and standing on one leg). Fact is, Mrs. Bradley—we don’t know. He disappeared ten minutes ago.

Yardsley. What do you mean?

Mrs. Bradley. Disappeared?

Barlow. Yes. He went east—at the rate of about a mile a minute.

Mrs. Bradley. My husband—went east? Mile a minute?

Perkins. Yes, on a bike. Yardsley, take me by the shawl-strap, will you, and help me over to that chair; my back hurts so I can’t lie down.