Mrs. Clarence. And Mr. Parker?
Aunt. Oh, he pooh-poohed our friend. Horace knew it all. He is so pig-headed! I shouldn’t wonder if he was about cleared out.
Mrs. Clarence. I can’t say I am very sorry. He has led a most selfish life, as everybody knows. He has his desert.
Messenger. You are meeting with a lot of sympathy.
Horace. It is just what I told you. It’s the other people who are selfish, not I. Why don’t you take Mrs. Clarence in hand? She’s a beauty, if you like.
Messenger. Compared to you, she is an angel.
Minnie. Poor Horace, I am sorry for him! What will he do?
Horace. There’s Minnie! She’s true—she’s true, after all!
Aunt. What will he do? Well, I suppose he will have to work, like anyone else.