(_Exit_ OLIVER, R.)

UNCLE. Cheerio. What? Oh, yes, yes. (_after_ OLIVER _has gone._)

EVANGELINE (_goes to him_). Now, look here--about that will of yours--I don't feel that it's quite fair to the others to----

(_Enter_ MRS. CROMBIE _from garden._)

MRS. CROMBIE. Oh, there you are, Mr. Davis--I've been wanting to have a little talk to you about South America. I had a brother out there, you know. (_Behind chair_ R.C.)

DANIEL (_rising, jovially_). Splendid--let's talk about him for hours.

EVANGELINE (_a little annoyed_). I'll come back later, uncle. (_Moves to stairs._)

MRS. CROMBIE. I hope I'm not interrupting a heart-to-heart talk between uncle and niece.

DANIEL. Not at all, not at all--it's a pleasure, I a.s.sure you.

EVANGELINE (_on stairs_). It doesn't matter a bit. Uncle Daniel is going to stay with us a long time, I hope.

(_Exit upstairs._)

MRS. CROMBIE (_settling herself in arm-chair_). Splendid--have you such a thing as a cigarette?

DANIEL. A cigarette, yes, certainly.

MRS. CROMBIE. And a match.

DANIEL. And a match.

(_He hands her a case, she takes one, goes to mantel for matches--then he strikes a match and lights it._)

MRS. CROMBIE (_girlishly_). Now we can be quite comfortable, can't we?

DANIEL. Quite. (_Sits on Chesterfield._)

MRS. CROMBIE. As I was saying just now, I had a brother out in South America.

DANIEL. What part?

MRS. CROMBIE. I'm not quite sure--we don't hear from him much--he was sent out there for--for----

DANIEL. I quite understand.

MRS. CROMBIE. For his health.

DANIEL. I know, they all are. It's a wonderful climate.

MRS. CROMBIE. He hasn't written for ages and ages--we were wondering if he was making money or not--it seems so far away, anything may be happening to him.

DANIEL. In all probability everything is----s.p.a.cELEFT(_laughs to himself_).

MRS. CROMBIE. Did you have any thrilling adventures when you were making your pile?

DANIEL. Oh yes, heaps and heaps.

MRS. CROMBIE. I gather that you have a mine of some sort?

DANIEL. Yes--just near the Grand Stand.

MRS. CROMBIE. The what?

DANIEL. The Grand Slam.

MRS. CROMBIE. Slam!

DANIEL. It's the name of a mountain, you know.

MRS. CROMBIE. What a strange name! Why do they call it that?

DANIEL. I can't imagine. It's often been a source of great perplexity to me.

MRS. CROMBIE. I take it that yours is a gold mine.

DANIEL. Not so that you'd notice it.

MRS. CROMBIE. I beg your pardon?

DANIEL. Well, I mean--it's not especially a gold mine--it's a mixed mine--a little bit of everything--there's tin and silver and salt and copper and bra.s.s, and G.o.d knows what--it's most exciting wondering what we are going to find next.

MRS. CROMBIE. Yes, so I should imagine....

DANIEL. Often on weary, dark nights--filled with the cries of the jackal and the boa-constrictor.

MRS. CROMBIE. I didn't know boa-constrictors cried.

DANIEL. Only when they are upset about something. Then they can't help it. There are few animals as highly emotional as a boa-constrictor.

Anyhow, as I was saying, we lay awake in the throbbing darkness--the darkness out there always throbs--it's a most peculiar phenomenon--and wondered--Heavens, how we wondered what we should find on the following day.

MRS. CROMBIE. If you'll forgive my saying so, Mr. Davis, I fear that you are a bit of a fraud.

DANIEL. I beg your pardon?

MRS. CROMBIE. I said I thought you were a fraud.

DANIEL. Of course I am--all great men are. Look at George Washington.

MRS. CROMBIE. He wasn't a fraud.