(Enter Mr. Valdingam, L.)
Mr. Valdingam: You must be hungry, Dr. Van Hyde, and I fear that I can offer you little to appease a healthy appetite—a bowl of broth, a tender bit of broiled chicken, and some of the finest Burgundy in the world to wash it down. We homely folk of the country stick to the ancient fashions, you know,—a noonday lunch, and all that.
Dr. Van Hyde: I like your ancient fashions, as you call them, Mr. Valdingam. (Enter Richard, who sets a small table for two and serves supper.)
Mr. Valdingam: Then let us sit down without ceremony.
Dr. Van Hyde: Your Burgundy is indeed delicious, Mr. Valdingam.
Mr. Valdingam: I flatter myself that it is. It dissolves the cobwebs from one’s brains, so to speak. It is the elixir of happiness; and alas! I am not a happy man, Dr. Van Hyde.... (To Richard.) Leave us alone, Richard. (Exit Richard.)
Dr. Van Hyde: Perhaps you exaggerate your misfortunes, my dear sir.
Mr. Valdingam: Far from it—far from it.... Imagine a father, a doting father, like myself, whose only child is on the verge of insanity.
Dr. Van Hyde: It is a pitiful case, truly.