Smith. Thank you, sir. (sits, r., stands his umbrella between his knees—puts his hat on the top of it and looks vacantly before him. Dunn. sits l. of table)
Dunn. (surveying him—aside) His appearance is not very pre-possessing; but I must not judge him by his looks. (aloud) This is a beautiful morning, is it not, Mr. Smith?
Smith. (solemnly) It is.
Dunn. (aside) He is not at all conversational. (aloud) We—we—er—we have had, I may say, several beautiful mornings lately, have we not, Mr. Smith?
Smith. (mournfully) We have.
Dunn. (aside) Umph! He must be very bashful and nervous. I'll get a bottle of wine; perhaps it will help to bring him to the point. (rises—aloud) I am going to my wine bin, Mr. Smith; you will excuse me a moment, will you not?
Smith. Oh, certainly. (Exit, Dunn., l.; suddenly—Smith looks quite cheerful) Wine bin, eh! He does not appear to be greatly distressed through his daughter's death. It may be that he has a large family and does not feel her loss so keenly. Let me see now, does he say in his letter when she died? (takes a black bordered envelope from his pocket and takes the letter from it—reads) "2, Belverley Terrace, Hedgetown, March 31st. Mr. Smith. Dear sir, I am grieved to inform you that my eldest daughter died suddenly this afternoon. Will you kindly call here in the morning to make the necessary preparations for her interment, and oblige, yours truly, Peter Dunnbrowne." (replaces the letter in the envelope and puts it in his pocket) So she died yesterday. (cheerfully) Ah, well, somebody must die or what would become of us poor undertakers? If everybody took a notion to live on from this time forward, the whole body of funeral furnishers would die of starvation. I hear Mr. Dunnbrowne coming, so I must assume my customary mournful expression. I always find that it pleases my customers. (looks mournful)
Enter, Dunn. l., with bottle of wine and glasses—places them on the table and begins to draw the cork)
Dunn. You will doubtless think it peculiar of me waiting upon myself, Mr. Smith, when there are servants in the house, but the fact is I never allow them to go to my wine bin, for I have discovered that they sometimes imbibe a little on their own account, in consequence of which I never allow the key to leave my possession. (filling the glasses) Now, my dear sir, make yourself at home. (putting a glass before Smith) Taste that and tell me what you think of it.