Martin. By George, Miss Grayson, if I weren’t a bit old and on the shelf, I’d marry you myself. You and I could clean up all the loose change in America. (Rodney enters R. Martin, seeing him, changes his whole attitude. Rises) I don’t care to discuss the matter further, Miss Grayson: consider yourself discharged. Good evening. (Crosses to L.)
Rodney. It’s all right, Mary. You can have a job in my office. (Crosses to C.)
Martin. (Scornfully) Your office, ha! (Suddenly) Oh, my foot, my poor foot! (He limps painfully towards door) Your office! It’s a joke, young man!
Rodney. Oh, you needn’t laugh! I’ll show you. (Crosses L. C.)
Martin. (Winking at Mary) Silence, you young puppy. Oh, my poor foot! (He exits)
Mary. Oh, Rodney! (Sits on sofa)
(Rodney goes up-stage, and passes behind sofa so that he is at the R. end of sofa.)
Rodney. Gout’s an awful thing, isn’t it? (Sits on sofa)
Mary. Oh, Rodney, I’m afraid I’ve spoiled everything for you—your future——