ow (eagerly). Yes, Bob. Go on. What is it? I'll never give
you away, and I _may_ be able to give you some good advice.

Yardsley. I am here to--to--to rob the house! Business has been
bad, and one must live. [Barlow looks at him in disgust.

Yardsley (mockingly). You have my secret, John Barlow. Remember
that it was wrung from me in confidence. You must not betray me.
Turn your back while I surreptitiously remove the piano and the gas-
fixtures, won't you?

Barlow (looking at him thoughtfully). Yardsley, I have done you an
injustice.

Yardsley. Indeed?

Barlow. Yes. Some one claimed, at the club, the other day, that you
were the biggest donkey in existence, and I denied it. I was wrong,
old man, I was wrong, and I apologize. You are.

Yardsley. You are too modest, Jack. You forget--yourself.

Barlow. Well, perhaps I do; but I've nothing to conceal, and you
have. You've been behaving in a most incomprehensible fashion this
afternoon, as if you owned the house.

Yardsley. Well, what of it? Do you own it?

Barlow. No, I don't, but--

Yardsley. But you hope to. Well, I have no such mercenary motive.
I'm not after the house.

Barlow (bristling up). After the house? Mercenary motive? I demand
an explanation of those words. What do you mean?

Yardsley. I mean this, Jack Barlow: I mean that I am here for--for
my own reasons; but you--you have come here for the purpose of--

Dorothy enters wish a tray, upon which are the tea things.

Barlow (about to retort to Yardsley, perceiving Dorothy). Ah! Let
me assist you.

Dorothy. Thank you so much. I really believe I never needed help
more. (She delivers the tray to Barlow, who sets it on the table.
Dorothy, exhausted, drops into a chair.) Fan me--quick--or I shall
faint. I've--I've had an awful time, and I really don't know what to
do!

Barlow and Yardsley (together). Why, what's the matter?

Yardsley. I hope the house isn't on fire?

Barlow. Or that you haven't been robbed?

Dorothy. No, no; nothing like that. It's--it's about Jennie.

Yardsley (nervously). Jennie? Wha--wha--what's the matter with
Jennie?

Dorothy. I only wish I knew. I--

Yardsley (aside). I'm glad you don't.

Barlow. What say?

Yardsley. I didn't say anything. Why should I say anything? I
haven't anything to say. If people who had nothing to say would not
insist upon talking, you'd be--

Dorothy. I heard the poor girl weeping do