Yes, Bob. Go on. What is it? I'll never give
you away, and I _may_ be able to give you some good advice.
Yardsley. I am here to--to--to rob the house! Business has been
bad, and one must live. [Barlow looks at him in disgust.
Yardsley (mockingly). You have my secret, John Barlow. Remember
that it was wrung from me in confidence. You must not betray me.
Turn your back while I surreptitiously remove the piano and the gas-
fixtures, won't you?
Barlow (looking at him thoughtfully). Yardsley, I have done you an
injustice.
Yardsley. Indeed?
Barlow. Yes. Some one claimed, at the club, the other day, that you
were the biggest donkey in existence, and I denied it. I was wrong,
old man, I was wrong, and I apologize. You are.
Yardsley. You are too modest, Jack. You forget--yourself.
Barlow. Well, perhaps I do; but I've nothing to conceal, and you
have. You've been behaving in a most incomprehensible fashion this
afternoon, as if you owned the house.
Yardsley. Well, what of it? Do you own it?
Barlow. No, I don't, but--
Yardsley. But you hope to. Well, I have no such mercenary motive.
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