Bradley (sorrowfully). This is the first time, Mrs. Perkins. Fact
is, we'd intended calling on you to-night, and I dressed as you see
me. Emma was in proper garb too, but when she saw what a beautiful
night it was, she told me to go ahead, and she--By Jove! it almost
makes me weep!
Perkins. She wasn't taken ill?
Bradley. No--worse. She said: "You go down on the ' L.' I'll
bike. It's such a splendid night." Fine piece of business this! To
have a bicycle come between man and wife is a pretty hard fate, I
think--for the one who doesn't ride.
Mrs. Perkins. Then Emma is coming here?
Bradley. That's the idea, on her wheel--coming down the Boulevard,
across Seventy-second Street, through the Park, down Madison, across
Twenty-third, down Fourth to Twenty-first, then here.
Perkins. Bully ride that.
Mrs. Perkins. Alone?
Bradley (sadly). I hope so--but these bicyclists have a way of
flocking together. For all I know, my beloved Emma may now be
coasting down Murray Hill escorted by some bicycle club from Jersey
City.
Mrs. Perkins. Oh dear--Mr. Bradley!
Bradley.
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