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two happy parents conspiring cosily by the fire for the good of their children.)

. It is nobody I know, but he does look a scoundrel.

. I think he comes back to get his shadow, George.

(meaning that the miscreant has now a father to deal with). I dare say. (He sees himself telling the story to the other stools at the office.) There is money in this, my love. I shall take it to the British Museum to-morrow and have it priced.

(The shadow is rolled up and replaced in the drawer.)

(like a guilty person). George, I have not told you all; I am afraid to.

(who knows exactly the right moment to treat a woman as a beloved child). Cowardy, cowardy custard.

(pouting). No, I’m not.

. Oh yes, you are.

. George, I’m not.

. Then why not tell? (Thus cleverly soothed she goes on.)