Messenger. Yes, into the snow and the night.
Horace. Do let me explain. The fact is I am in rather a delicate state of health, and if I were to venture out on a night like this, the consequences might be most serious.
Messenger. You are wasting your breath. Come.
Horace. You can’t really mean it?
Messenger. I do.
Horace. You will let me put on my coat and hat?
Messenger. Put them on. We may find them useful. Hurry!
Horace. (Putting on his coat and muffler slowly) You don’t give me time.
Messenger. Make haste, I say.
Horace. I’m not starting out with any comfort at all. I really don’t think I should be wise to venture out to-night. It is so very sharp outside.