Mrs. Perkins. I suppose it's all right. What do you think, Emma?
Mrs. Bradley. Why, it's simply fine. Of course it requires a little
imagination to see it as it will be on the night of the performance;
but in general I don't see how it could be better.
Barlow. No--nor I. It's great as it is, but when we get the hot-bed
covers hung, and the fountain playing, and plants arranged gracefully
all around, it will be ideal. I say we ought to give Yardsley a vote
of thanks.
Perkins. That's so. We're very much indebted to Yardsley.
Yardsley. Never mind that. I enjoy the work very much.
Perkins. So glad. (Aside.) I wonder when _we_ get a vote of
thanks?
Bradley (looking at his watch). By Jove, Emma, it's after eleven!
Mrs. Bradley. After eleven? Dear me! I had no idea it was as late
as that. How time flies when you are enjoying yourself! Really,
Edward, you ought not to have overlooked the time. You know--
Bradley. I supposed you knew we couldn't pull a house down in five
minutes.
Perkins. What's become of the clock?
Mrs. Perkins. I don't know. Who took the clock out?
Barlow.
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