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.
Yardsley. Oh, I’m well enough!
Barlow (solicitously). You don’t look it—by Jove you don’t. (Suddenly inspired.) No, you don’t, Bob. You overestimate your strength. It’s very wrong to overestimate one’s strength. People—ah—people have died of it. Why, I’ll bet you a hat you can’t start now and walk up to Central Park and back in an hour. Come. I’ll time you. (Rises and takes out watch.) It is now four ten. I’ll wager you can’t get back here before five thirty. Eh? Let me get your hat.
[Starts for door.
Yardsley (with a laugh). Oh no; I don’t bet—after four. But I say, did you see Billie Wilkins?
Barlow (returning in despair). Nope.