Hank [daringly]. It's you, ma'am, are blinding them. [He runs up the stairs with the pitcher.]
Padie [bending toward him as he comes near the top steps]. You'd better reach it to me. Maybe the landing'll not hold the two of us.
Hank. It'll hold two that have such light hearts as we.
Padie. Ah, you don't know mine, mister.
Hank [reaching her the pitcher]. There, the clumsy mut I am! Spillt the cold water on your pretty bare toes!
[As she leans over to take the pitcher her hair falls suddenly about his head, almost covering his face.]
Padie [drawing it back, with a deft twirl]. I've most smothered you!
Hank. I wouldn't want a sweeter death.
Padie [looking down into his eyes]. Indeed, you're the picture of—an old lover of mine.
Hank. I'd rather be the picture of the new.