ith her hand, which, when ungloved, glitters
with heavy rings. She is much younger than the BARON and
self-consciously fascinating. Her parasol, which matches her
costume, suggests the sunshine without. QUINCY DAVENPORT is in a
smart spring suit with a motor dust-coat and cap, which last he
lays down on the mantelpiece_.

SERVANT
Miss Revendal is on the roof-garden. I'll go and tell her.
[_Exit, toward the hall._]

BARON
A marvellous people, you Americans. Gardens in the sky!

QUINCY
Gardens, forsooth! We plant a tub and call it Paradise. No, Baron. New
York is the great stone desert.

BARONESS
But ze big beautiful Park vere ve drove tru?

QUINCY
No taste, Baroness, modern sculpture and menageries! Think of the Medici
gardens at Rome.

BARONESS
Ah, Rome!
[_With an ecstatic sigh, she drops into an armchair. Then she
takes out a dainty cigarette-case, pulls off her right-hand
glove, exhibiting her rings, and chooses a cigarette. The BARON,
seeing this, produces his match-box._]

QUINCY
And now, dear Baron Revendal, having brought you safely to the den of
the lioness--if I may venture to call your daughter so--I must leave
_you_ to do the taming, eh?

BARON
You are always of the most amiable.
[_He strikes a match._]

BARONESS
_Tout a fait charmant._
[_The BARON lights her cigarette._]

QUINCY [_Bows gallantly_]
Don't mention it. I'll just have my auto take me to the Club, and then
I'll send it back for you.

BARONESS
Ah, zank you--zat street-car looks horreeble.
[_She puffs out smoke._]

BARON
Quite impossible. What is to prevent an anarchist sitting next to you
and shooting out your brains?

QUINCY
We haven't much of that here--I don't mean brains. Ha! Ha! Ha!

BARON
But I saw desperadoes spying as we came off your yacht.

QUINCY
Oh, that was newspaper chaps.

BARON [_Shakes his head_]
No--they are circulating my appearance to all the gang in the States.
They took snapshots.

QUINCY
Then you're quite safe from recognition.
[_He sniggers._]
Didn't they ask you questions?

BARON
Yes, but I am a diplomat. I do not reply.

QUINCY
That's not very diplomatic here. Ha! Ha!

BARON
_Diable!_
[_He claps his hand to his hip pocket, half-producing a pistol.
The BARONESS looks equally anxious._]

QUINCY
What's up?

BARON [_Points to window, whispers hoarsely_]
Regard! A hooligan peeped in!

QUINCY [_Go