Enter Mr. Denis Clifton. He sees them, and walks about very tactfully with his back towards them, humming to himself.
Richard. Hullo!
Clifton [to himself]. Now where did I put those papers? [He hums to himself again.] Now where—oh, I beg your pardon! I left some papers behind.
Viola. Dick, you'll tell him. [As she goes out, she says to Clifton.] Good-by, Mr. Clifton, and thank you for writing such nice letters.
Clifton. Good-by, Miss Crawshaw.
Viola. Just say it to see how it sounds.
Clifton. Good-by, Miss Wurzel-Flummery.
Viola [smiling happily]. No, not Miss, Mrs. [She goes out.]
Clifton [looking in surprise from her to him]. You don't mean—
Richard. Yes; and I'm taking the money after all, Mr. Clifton.