PARAMORE: One of the j.a.panese instruments.

(_He is quite obviously a subscriber to the "National Geographic Magazine_.")

TANA: I play flu-u-ute, j.a.panese flu-u-ute.

PARAMORE: What song were you playing? One of your j.a.panese melodies?

TANA:(_His brow undergoing preposterous contraction_) I play train song.

How you call?--railroad song. So call in my countree. Like train. It go so-o-o; that mean whistle; train start. Then go so-o-o; that mean train go. Go like that. Vera nice song in my countree. Children song.

PARAMORE: It sounded very nice. (_It is apparent at this point that only a gigantic effort at control restrains Tana from rushing up-stairs for his post cards, including the six made in America_.)

TANA: I fix high-ball for gentleman?

PARAMORE: "No, thanks. I don't use it". (_He smiles_.)

(TANA _withdraws into the kitchen, leaving the intervening door slightly ajar. From the crevice there suddenly issues again the melody of the j.a.panese train song--this time not a practice, surely, but a performance, a l.u.s.ty, spirited performance._

_The phone rings._ TANA, _absorbed in his harmonics, gives no heed, so_ PARAMORE _takes up the receiver_.)

PARAMORE: h.e.l.lo.... Yes.... No, he's not here now, but he'll be back any moment.... b.u.t.terworth? h.e.l.lo, I didn't quite catch the name.... h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo. h.e.l.lo! ... Huh!

(_The phone obstinately refuses to yield up any more sound. Paramore replaces the receiver._

_At this point the taxi motif re-enters, wafting with it a second young man; he carries a suitcase and opens the front door without ringing the bell._)

MAURY: (_In the hall_) "Oh, Anthony! Yoho"! (_He comes into the large room and sees_ PARAMORE) How do?

PARAMORE: (_Gazing at him with gathering intensity_) Is this--is this Maury n.o.ble?

MAURY: "That's it". (_He advances, smiling, and holding out his hand_) How are you, old boy? Haven't seen you for years.

(_He has vaguely a.s.sociated the face with Harvard, but is not even positive about that. The name, if he ever knew it, he has long since forgotten. However, with a fine sensitiveness and an equally commendable charity_ PARAMORE _recognizes the fact and tactfully relieves the situation_.)

PARAMORE: You've forgotten Fred Paramore? We were both in old Unc Robert's history cla.s.s.

MAURY: No, I haven't, Unc--I mean Fred. Fred was--I mean Unc was a great old fellow, wasn't he?

PARAMORE: (_Nodding his head humorously several times_) Great old character. Great old character.

MAURY: (_After a short pause_) Yes--he was. Where's Anthony?

PARAMORE: The j.a.panese servant told me he was at some inn. Having dinner, I suppose.

MAURY: (_Looking at his watch_) Gone long?

PARAMORE: I guess so. The j.a.panese told me they'd be back shortly.

MAURY: Suppose we have a drink.

PARAMORE: No, thanks. I don't use it. (_He smiles_.)

MAURY: Mind if I do? (_Yawning as he helps himself from a bottle_) What have you been doing since you left college?

PARAMORE: Oh, many things. I've led a very active life. Knocked about here and there. (_His tone implies anything front lion-stalking to organized crime._)

MAURY: Oh, been over to Europe?

PARAMORE: No, I haven't--unfortunately.

MAURY: I guess we'll all go over before long.

PARAMORE: Do you really think so?

MAURY: Sure! Country's been fed on sensationalism for more than two years. Everybody getting restless. Want to have some fun.

PARAMORE: Then you don't believe any ideals are at stake?

MAURY: Nothing of much importance. People want excitement every so often.

PARAMORE: (_Intently_) It's very interesting to hear you say that. Now I was talking to a man who'd been over there----

(_During the ensuing testament, left to be filled in by the reader with such phrases as "Saw with his own eyes," "Splendid spirit of France,"

and "Salvation of civilization,"_ MAURY _sits with lowered eyelids, dispa.s.sionately bored._)

MAURY: (_At the first available opportunity_) By the way, do you happen to know that there's a German agent in this very house?

PARAMORE: (_Smiling cautiously_) Are you serious?

MAURY: Absolutely. Feel it my duty to warn you.

PARAMORE: (_Convinced_) A governess?

MAURY: (_In a whisper, indicating the kitchen with his thumb_) _Tana!_ That's not his real name. I understand he constantly gets mail addressed to Lieutenant Emile Tannenbaum.

PARAMORE: (_Laughing with hearty tolerance_) You were kidding me.

MAURY: I may be accusing him falsely. But, you haven't told me what you've been doing.

PARAMORE: For one thing--writing.

MAURY: Fiction?

PARAMORE: No. Non-fiction.

MAURY: What's that? A sort of literature that's half fiction and half fact?

PARAMORE: Oh, I've confined myself to fact. I've been doing a good deal of social-service work.