(Jack looks over top of paper absently, then resumes reading.)

_Maude_ (explosively). Jack, what do you think? Only fancy--Valeria is--Jack, listen! Put down your horrid paper! Valeria is married.

(He looks at her vacantly.)

_Jack_ Well?

_Maude_ Well? Listen: Valeria is married.

_Jack_ (waking to the situation). Is that so! Valeria--well, well. I'm not astonished.

_Maude_ (pensively). Why not?

_Jack_ (at a venture). O, because--she is so--so handsome.

_Maude_ (scornfully). She isn't handsome! Where are your eyes? She's clever--clever, that's what Valeria is. But not handsome,--certainly not. She squints.

_Jack_ (staring). I thought you were so fond of her.

_Maude_ (with dignity). I am, I am awfully fond of her--I've always been. But (cuttingly) affection doesn't blind me. I can love her and see her faults. n.o.body ever called Valeria handsome.

_Jack_ (hunting his place on the page). Maybe it was stunning.

_Maude_ (with intense emphasis). Stunning!

_Jack_ (turning the page with a prodigious rattling). Hal used to rave over her.

_Maude_ O! Hal, he--don't rattle your paper so, you make me nervous! Hal didn't care for her.

_Jack_ (absently). No, I suppose not, I suppose not. Of course, n.o.body could.

(Silence. Both read.)

_Maude_ (intent on letter and all to herself). I wonder what she wore!

She is too old for white. (reads aloud). "You'll be surprised, my dear." Yes, I confess I am. (gazing at coffee urn thoughtfully). Yes, I am. (resumes reading). Where was I? "I want to tell you first, dear." Here it is. So she did wear white--now, I am astonished. (reads on). For pity sakes! Jack

_Jack_ (starts violently, crushing paper). A man might as well live on Vesuvius.

_Maude_ (in great excitement). But, Jack, guess who married her.

_Jack_ (with calm certainty). The man in the Moon. He's too jolly to mind squints.

_Maude_ Just guess. You never can.

_Jack_ (impatiently, much wrought upon.) Then tell me.

_Maude_ (in an explosive). Hal!

_Jack_ (inanely). Hal!

_Maude_ (calmly, the mine sprung). Hal Taylor.

_Jack_ Hal Taylor. Well, I am--bobbed!

_Maude_ I'm not surprised.

_Jack_ You said Hal didn't care for her.

_Maude_ (very slowly). He doesn't, Jack. Hal was--roped in.

_Jack_ (stares, then gives vent to a long whistle of astonishment).

Well, you women!

_Maude_ Don't talk to me. I am disgusted!

_Jack_ (ruefully). Well! (He stares, folds napkin, unfolds it and takes up his newspaper.)

_Maude_ Don't sit there, just saying "Well" all the time!

_Jack_ (slowly). Say, what is it to you?

_Maude_ (sobs a little). She h-has deceived me--basely deceived me. But I don't care. I shall send her a cut-gla.s.s berry dish,--maybe a Tiffany c-c-cut! (dries her eyes resolutely). Coffee, dear?

_Jack_ (irritably; a trifle suspicious yet). Yes, don't I always take coffee?

_Maude_ (plaintively). Don't scold me. I cannot endure much more. To think Valeria--

_Jack_ (with decision, carving the steak). Don't think, then. Drop it.

What's your other letter?

_Maude_ (sadly). I don't care--I don't care for anything. (takes a biscuit). The biscuits are burned.

_Jack_ No, they are not. Never mind--give the letter to me.

(Maude gazes pensively at nothing. Jack opens the letter with a fork, and reads silently.)

_Jack_ (to himself, muttering). Of course, it's money,--always money.

Only a dollar and fifty cents apiece,--a man ought not growl. Umph!

"The happy old days." Yes, I remember.

_Maude_ (meekly). Remember what, Jack, dear? (He reads. Silence. She folds and unfolds Valeria's letter.)

_Jack_ (suddenly). By George!

_Maude_ (b.u.t.tering a biscuit, slowly). What is it?

_Jack_ By George!