Perkins. I don't know anything about it. What I'm after is
information; only, I give you warning, I will not ride so as to get
round shoulders.
Yardsley. Then where's your wrench? Screw up your bar, hoist your
handles, elevate your saddle, and you're O.K. What saddle have you?
Perkins (tapping it). This.
Barlow. Humph! Not very good--but we'll try it. Come on. It's
getting late.
[They go out. Perkins reluctantly. In a moment he returns alone,
and, rushing to Mrs. Perkins, kisses her affectionately.
Perkins. Good-bye, dearest.
Mrs. Perkins. Good-bye. Don't hurt yourself, Thaddeus. [Exit
Perkins.
Mrs. Perkins (leaving window and looking at clock on mantel). Ten
minutes past nine and Emma not here yet. It does seem too bad that
she should worry Ed so much just for independence' sake. I am quite
sure I should never want to ride a wheel anyhow, and even if I did--
Enter Yardsley hurriedly, with a piece of flannel in his hand.
Yardsley. I beg pardon, Mrs. Perkins, but have you a shawl-strap in
the house?
Mrs. Perkins (tragically). What is that you have in your hand, Mr.
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