Horace. There’s a poor fellow outside dying of cold.
Mrs. Clarence. This is not a hospital. John, shut the door.
Horace. (Holding the door open) Mrs. Clarence, you must not refuse this service.
Mrs. Clarence. And pray, who are you?
Horace. Horace Parker, a ruined man as you know—a tramp as you see.
Mrs. Clarence. John, do you hear me?
Horace. Mrs. Clarence—may he lie on the mat where your dog sleeps?
Mrs. Clarence. John—— (Retires, and door is shut in Horace’s face.)
Horace. You hear? What shall I do for him, Marsy?