Aunt. (Sharing her wonderment) Yes. (They look at each other for a moment in silence.)
Minnie. Well, I can believe it after what he has been doing at the fire.
Aunt. Do you know, Minnie, I hardly think you should call a man, with a mind rather above social small talk, selfish, because he doesn’t care to go to your balls with you.
Minnie. It was you who said he was selfish. I was willing to give up the dance.
Aunt. I don’t dance. You have misjudged him. He is the soul of generosity. Do you know, he actually began excusing himself to me for bringing the poor people in out of the cold.
Minnie. Fancy those babies sleeping through it all! Weren’t they sweet? (Enter Tramp and Horace R.)
Aunt. And you, my poor fellow! I must find a corner for you somewhere. You have no home now, I suppose.
Tramp. No, ma’m. I’ve done without a home for several moons. So I’m used to it, but it’s tough on those who get it sudden.
Horace. I’m interested in this man. I showed him scant courtesy this evening, and felt sorry for him afterwards. We met again at the fire. He is an inventor, moreover.
Tramp. Ah, Guv’ner, if they had only had my fire-escape there would have been no killed.