MRS. CRASHAW: ‘Edward couldn’t do that either.’
LAWTON: ‘Very well, then, just wait till they come back. Will you leave me to deal with Campbell?’
MRS. CRASHAW: ‘What are you going to do?’
YOUNG BEMIS: ‘You mustn’t forget that he got us out of the elevator, sir.’
MRS. BEMIS: ‘We might have been there yet if it hadn’t been for him, papa.’
MRS. CRASHAW: ‘I shouldn’t want Willis mortified.’
BEMIS: ‘Nor Mr. Roberts annoyed. We’re fellow-sufferers in this business.’
LAWTON: ‘Oh, leave it to me, leave it to me! I’ll spare their feelings. Don’t be afraid. Ah, there they come! Now don’t say anything. I’ll just step into the anteroom here.’
II MR. ROBERTS, MR. CAMPBELL, AND THE OTHERS
ROBERTS, entering the room before Campbell, and shaking hands with his guests: ‘Ah, Mr. Bemis; Mrs. Bemis; Aunt Mary! You’ve heard of our comical little coincidence—our—Mr. Bemis and my—’ He halts, confused, and looks around for the moral support of Willis, who follows hilariously.
WILLIS: ‘Greatest joke on record! But I won’t spoil it for you, Roberts. Go on!’ In a low voice to Roberts: ‘And don’t look so confoundedly down in the mouth. They won’t think it’s a joke at all.’
ROBERTS, with galvanic lightness: ‘Yes, yes—such a joke! Well, you see—you see—’
MRS. CRASHAW: ‘See _what_, Edward? _Do_ get it out!’
WILLIS: ‘Go on, Roberts, do! or I shall die! Ah, ha, ha!’
ROBERTS, in a low voice of consternation to Willis: ‘Where was I? I can’t go on unless I know where I was.’
WILLIS, _sotto voce_ to Roberts: ‘You weren’t anywhere! For Heaven’s sake, make a start!’
ROBERTS, to the others, convulsively: ‘Ha, ha, ha! I supposed all the time, you know, that I had been robbed, and—and—’
WILLIS, whispering: ‘You’ve _got_ to! You’re the beaver that clomb the tree. Laugh naturally, now!’
ROBERTS, with a staccato groan, which he tries to make pass for a laugh: ‘And then I ran after the man—’ He stops, and regards Mr. Bemis with a ghastly stare.
MRS. CRASHAW: ‘What is the matter with you, Edward? Are you sick?’
WILLIS: ‘Sick? No! Can’t you see that he can’t get over the joke of the thing? It’s killing him.’ To Roberts: ‘Brace up, old man! You’re doing it splendidly.’
ROBERTS, hopelessly: ‘And then the other man—the man that had robbed me—the man that I had pursued—ugh!’