Jones. Not I. I am tired of play-acting, and think we have had enough of it.
Robinson. Well, I think I shall look in. I am rather fond of strong scenes, and it should be good, to judge from the programme.
Jones. Well, we will "sit out." It's rather gruesome. Quite different from the other plays.
Robinson. Well, I don't mind horrors—in fact, like them. There goes the bell. So I am off. Wait until I come back.
Brown. That depends how long you are away. Ta, ta!
[Exit Robinson.
Jones. Now, how a fellow can enjoy a piece like that, I cannot understand. It is full of murders, from the rise to the fall of the curtain.
Brown. Yes—but Robinson likes that sort of thing. You will see by-and-by how the plot will affect him. It is rather jumpy, especially at the end, when the severed head tells the story of the murder to the assistant executioner. I would not see it again on any account.
Jones. No—it sent my maiden aunt in hysterics. However, it has the merit of being short. (Applause.) Ah, there it's over! Let's see how Robinson likes it. That tableau at the end, of the starving-coastguardsman expiring under the rack, is perfectly awful! (Enter Robinson, staggering in.) Why, my boy, what's the matter?
Brown. You do look scared! Have something to drink? That will set it all to-rights!