Spread. (much disappointed). Do you really want to send that fellow some flowers?
Jen. To be sure I do. Why should I have asked Wilcox to cut them?
Spread. I thought—I was a great fool to think so—but I thought it might have been because we could talk more pleasantly alone.
Jen. I really wanted some flowers; but, as you say, we certainly can talk more pleasantly alone. (She busies herself with preparing the sycamore.)
Spread. I’ve often thought that nothing is such a check on—pleasant conversation—as the presence of—of—a gardener—who is not interested in the subject of conversation.
Jen. (gets the tree, and cuts off the matting with which it is bound with garden scissors which she has brought with her from the table). Oh, but Wilcox is very interested in everything that concerns you. Do let me call him back.
Spread. No, no; not on my account!
Jen. He and I were having quite a discussion about you when you arrived. (Digging a hole for tree.)
Spread. About me?
Jen. Yes; indeed we almost quarrelled about you.