[_Energetically._] My dear Phil, for heaven's sake, don't entertain such a notion! Abandon your career just when you're making a noise in the world----!

PHILIP.

[_Throwing up his hands._] Noise in the world!

ROOPE.

When you're getting the finest advertis.e.m.e.nt an author could possibly desire!

PHILIP.

[_Choking._] Advertis.e.m.e.nt----!

ROOPE.

I can sympathize with your feeling mortified at not scoring entirely off your own bat; but, deuce take it, your book _is_ in its thirteenth edition!

PHILIP.

[_Laughing wildly._] Ho, ho, ho! [_Moving to the fireplace._] Ha, ha, ha, ha----!

ROOPE.

[_Testily._] Oh, I'm glad I amuse you----!

PHILIP.

[_Coming to the settee on the right._] You're marvellous, Robbie--incomparable----!

ROOPE.

[_Again preparing to depart._] Indeed?

PHILIP.

Ha, ha, ha----!

[_A moment earlier,_ SIR TIMOTHY BARRADELL _has appeared in the vestibule, trying, in the dim light there, to decipher the name on the outer door. Hearing the sound of voices, he turns and reveals himself._

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_Looking into the room and encountering_ ROOPE.] Roope!

ROOPE.

[_As they shake hands--astonished._] Dear excellent _friend_, what a surprise!

SIR TIMOTHY.

Ah, don't flatter yourself you're the only early riser in London!

[_Seeing_ PHILIP.] Mr. Mackworth--[_advancing_] I found your door open and I took the liberty----

PHILIP.

[_Meeting him in the middle of the room._] Sir Timothy Barradell, isn't it?

SIR TIMOTHY.

It is. [_They shake hands, cordially on_ SIR TIMOTHY's _part, with more formality on_ PHILIP's.] It's an unceremonious hour for a call, but if you'd spare me five minutes----

PHILIP.

[_Civilly._] Pray sit down. [_Joining_ ROOPE _at the entrance to the vestibule._] Robbie _has_ to run away----

ROOPE.

[_Diplomatically._] Can't stay another moment. [_Waving a hand to_ SIR TIMOTHY.] _Au revoir_, dear Sir Timothy!

SIR TIMOTHY.

[_Laying his hat upon the settee on the right and taking off his gloves._] So long! [PHILIP _and_ ROOPE _stare at_ SIR TIMOTHY, _whose back is towards them._ ROOPE _gives_ PHILIP _an inquiring look, which_ PHILIP _answers by a shrug and a shake of the head; and then_ PHILIP _lets_ ROOPE _out and comes back into the room._ SIR TIMOTHY _turns to him._] I'm afraid you think I'm presuming on a very slight acquaintance, Mr. Mackworth----

PHILIP.

[_Shutting the vestibule door._] Not in the least.

SIR TIMOTHY.

Anyhow I'll not waste more of your valuable time than I can help.

[PHILIP _points to the settee and the two men sit, Sir Timothy on the settee,_ PHILIP _in the chair by the smoking-table._ SIR TIMOTHY _inspects the toes of his boots._] Mr. Mackworth, I--I won't beat about the bush--it's a delicate subject I'm approaching you on.

PHILIP.

[_Leaning back in his chair._] Really?

SIR TIMOTHY.

An extremely delicate subject--[_raising his eyes_] Madame de Chaumie.

PHILIP.

Madame de Chaumie?

SIR TIMOTHY.

In the first place, I suppose you're aware that I had the temerity to propose marriage to the lady in the summer of this year?

PHILIP.