Ah, Perkins, how d' y' do? Glad to see me? Gad! you don't
look it.
Perkins. Glad is a word which scarcely expresses my feelings,
Bradley. I--I'm simply de-lighted. (Aside to Mrs. Perkins, who has
been greeting Mrs. Bradley.) Here's a kettle of fish. We must get
rid of them, or we'll miss The Lyons Mail.
Mrs. Bradley. You two are always so formal. The idea of your
putting on your dress suit, Thaddeus! It'll be ruined before we are
half through this evening.
Bradley. Certainly, Perkins. Why, man, when you've been moving
furniture and taking up carpets and ripping out fireplaces for an
hour or two that coat of yours will be a rag--a veritable rag that
the ragman himself would be dubious about buying.
Perkins (aside). Are these folk crazy? Or am I? (Aloud.) Pulling
up fireplaces? Moving out furniture? Am I to be dispossessed?
Mrs. Bradley. Not by your landlord, but _you_ know what amateur
dramatics are.
Bradley. I doubt it. He wouldn't have let us have 'em here if he
had known.
Perkins. Amateur--amateur dramatics?
Mrs. Perkins. Certainly, Thaddeus.
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