SHEBA.
But think, only think of my age.
DARBEY.
Pardon me, Sheba--but what is your age?
SHEBA.
Oh, it is so very little--it is not worth mentioning. Cannot we remain friends and occasionally correspond?
DARBEY.
Well, of course--if you insist----
SHEBA.
No, no, I see that is impracticable. It must be wed or part. All I ask is time--time to ponder over such a question, time to know myself better.
DARBEY.
Certainly, how long?
SHEBA.
Give me two or three minutes. Hush!
[_They separate as TARVER and SALOME re-enter the room. TARVER is glaring excitedly and biting his nails._
TARVER.
I never thought I should live to be accepted by anyone. I shall buy some gay songs. Er--when can I see the Dean?
SALOME.
Oh, don"t!
TARVER.
Salome!
SALOME.
Papa has been out all night.
DARBEY _and_ TARVER.
All night?
SALOME.
Isn"t it terrible! Oh, what do you think of it, Mr. Darbey?
DARBEY.
Shocking, but we oughtn"t to condemn him unheard.
SALOME.
Condemn my Papa!
SHEBA.
[_At the window._] Here"s Aunt Georgiana!
DARBEY.
Eh! Look out, Tarver.
[_Going out quickly._
SALOME.
[_Pulling TARVER after her._] Come this way and let us take cuttings in the conservatory.
[_They go out._
SHEBA.
Mr. Darbey! Mr. Darbey, wait for me--I have decided. _Yes._
[_She goes out by the door as GEORGIANA enters excitedly at the window._
GEORGIANA.
[_Waving her handkerchief._] Come on, Tris! The course is clear! Mind the gate-post! Hold him up! Now give him his head!
_SIR TRISTRAM and HATCHAM enter by the window carrying THE DEAN. They all look as though they have been recently engaged in a prolonged struggle._
SIR TRISTRAM.
Put him down!
GEORGIANA.
Put him down!
HATCHAM.