om his book._] What's the time, John?

JOHN.

Quarter-to-six, sir.

PHILIP.

Have my things come from the tailor's yet?

JOHN.

[_Laying the cloth with the aid of the waiter._] Yes, sir; while you
were dozing. [_Ecstatically._] They're lovely, sir. [_A bell rings in
the vestibule._] Expect that's the cook, sir. [_He bustles into the
vestibule from the dining-room. There is a short pause and then he
reappears, entering the study at the door opening from the vestibule,
followed by_ ROOPE.] It's Mr. Roope, sir!

PHILIP.

No! [_Throwing his book aside and jumping up._] Why, Robbie!

ROOPE.

[_As they shake hands vigorously._] My dear fellow!

PHILIP.

Return of the wanderer! When did you get back?

ROOPE.

Last night.

PHILIP.

Take your coat off, you old ruffian. [_Putting his pipe down._] I _am_
glad.

ROOPE.

[_To_ JOHN, _who relieves him of his hat, overcoat, and neckerchief._]
How are _you_, John?

JOHN.

Splendid, Mr. Roope. [_Beaming._] Our new novel is _sech_ a success,
sir.

PHILIP.

Ha, ha, ha, ha!

ROOPE.

[_To_ JOHN.] So Mr. Mackworth wrote and told me. [_Giving his gloves
to_ JOHN.] Congratulate you, John.

JOHN.

[_Depositing the hat, coat, etc., upon the settee on the left._]
Thank you, sir.

ROOPE.

[_Crossing to the fireplace, rubbing his hands, as_ JOHN _retires to
the dining-room._] Oh, my dear Phil, this dreadful climate after the
sunshine of the Lago Maggiore!

PHILIP.

[_Walking about and spouting, in high spirits._] "Italia! O Italia!
thou who hast the fatal gift of beauty----!"

ROOPE.

Sir Loftus and Lady Glazebrook were moving on to Rome, or I really
believe I could have endured another month at their villa, bores as
they are, dear kind souls! [_Looking towards the dining-room, where_
JOHN _and the waiter are now placing a handsome centre-piece of flowers
upon the round table._] Hallo! A dinner-party, Phil?

PHILIP.

Dinner-party? A banquet!