uth furiously._)

HE. My handkerchief.

SHE. (_Throwing it to the ground_) Oh, you coward! You. . . . You
(_She sits on the log, inarticulate with rage. The whistle is
heard again._)

HE. Listen to me.

SHE. I won't.

HE. (_Earnestly_) Listen to me.

SHE. I don't want to talk to you!

HE. I'll help you.

SHE. (_Rising_) I don't want your help.

HE. (_Bluntly_) Then you're silly.

SHE. (_Wheeling furiously_) How dare you----

HE. (_Interrupting_) I'll make a bargain with you.

SHE. (_Scornfully_) What dealings can there be between us?

HE. Did you hear the whistling a minute ago?

SHE. Well?

HE. (_With meaning_) That's Brookfield.

SHE. (_After a pause_) Well?

HE. The path leads here. He is following the path----

SHE. (_After still another pause_) Well?

HE. You and I might be very good friends----

SHE. (_Thoughtfully_) Oh, you mean----

HE. A valet is not paid very well----

SHE. No. . . . Still----

SHE. If anything comes of it----

SHE. (_Slowly_) Comes of what?

HE. You understand me. (_He pauses; smiles. Then, in a
Mephistophelian manner_): Your clothes are still wet, aren't
they?

SHE. (_With full comprehension_) Yes----

HE. Enough said! (_The whistle is heard, close at hand._) Quick!

SHE. (_Going off_) You won't tell? (_He shakes his head._) I'll
remember you. (_She runs into the woods._)

HE. (_Sits on the log, laughs heartily. He produces another
cigarette, and tries in vain to light it. Then, as an atrocious
little cockney enters whistling gaily, he addresses him sharply_)
Peters!

PETERS. (_Surprised_) M'lord?

HE. Give me a light, Peters.

PETERS. Yes, m'lord. (_Produces match, etc._)

HE. Thanks. (_He blows a few whiffs into the air. Then stops, and
surveys PETERS thoughtfully._) Peters, you're a brave man, aren't
you?

PETERS. (_Modestly_) I am 'andy with me fists, m'lord.

HE. That's not quite what I mean, Peters. . . . (_He pauses._)
Peters, you have the making of a hero in you. Something tells me
that you're going to have your chance.

(_There is a loud splash from the same direction as before,
followed by screams of "Help! Help!"_)

PETERS. (_With excitement_) M'lord!

HE. (_Quietly_) Yes, Peters?

PETERS. Somebody's calling for 'elp, m'lord!

HE. Yes, Peters.

PETERS. Shall I go, m'lord?

HE. Yes, Peters. . . . Gallop!

_And as_

PETERS. (_Charges wildly into the shrubbery, shouting_): H'I'm
coming! H'I'm coming!

THE CURTAIN FAL