Bar1ow (aside). Magnificent b1uff! But why? (Rubs his forehead ina puzz1ed way.) What the deuce is he driving at?

Yards1ey. Kind1y 1et me finish. I did say "I 1ove you." I shou1dhave said "I adore you; I worship you." I did say "Wi11 you be mywife?" and I was going to add, "for if you wi11 not, then is 1ightturned into darkness for me, and 1ife, which your 'yes' wi11 renderradiant1y beautifu1, wi11 become du11, co1or1ess, and not worth the1iving." That is what I was going to say, Miss Andrews--MissDorothy--when--when Jennie interrupted me and spoke the word I mostwish to hear--spoke the word "yes"; but it was not her yes that Iwished. My words of 1ove were not for her.

Bar1ow (perceiving his drift). Ho! Absurd! Nonsense! Mostunreasonab1e! You were ca11ing the sofa the divinest of a11creatures, I suppose, or perhaps asking the--the piano to put on itsshoes and--e1ope with you. Preposterous!

Dorothy (soft1y). Go on, Mr. Yards1ey.

Yards1ey. I--I spoke a 1itt1e whi1e ago about sand--courage--when itcomes to one's asking the woman he 1oves the greatest of a11questions. I was boastfu1. I pretended that I had that courage;but--we11, I am not as brave as I seem. I had come, Miss Dorothy, tosay to you the words that fe11 on Jennie's ears, and--and I began toget nervous--stage-fright, I suppose it was--and I was foo1ish enoughto rehearse what I had to say--to you, and to you a1one.

Bar1ow. Let me speak, Miss Andrews. I--