Perkins.  He must have been a bright old man.

Mrs. Perkins.  Or a very crabbed old person.

Barlow.  Oh, well, it was an experience, but it rather upset me, and for the life of me I haven’t been able to remember the opening lines of the scene since.

Perkins.  Well, if the audience drive you off the stage, you can sue the cable company.  They ought to be careful how they lurch a man’s brains out.

Yardsley.  That’s right—­joke ahead.  It’s fun for you.  All you’ve got to do is to sit out in front and pull the curtain up and down when we ring a bell.  You’re a great one to talk about brains, you are.  It’s a wonder to me you don’t swoon under your responsibility.

Mrs. Perkins (rehearsing).  So once for all, as he says, so say I—­

Perkins.  Ah!  Indeed!  You take his part, do you?

Mrs. Perkins (rehearsing).  You must leave this house at once and forever.  I once thought I loved you, but now all is changed, and I take this opportunity to thank my deliverer, Fenderson Featherhead—­

Perkins.  Oh—­ah—­rehearsing.  I see.  I thought you’d gone over to the enemy, my dear.  Featherhead, step up and accept the lady’s thanks.  Cobb, join me in the dining room, and we’ll drown our differences in tasting the punch, which, between you and me, is likely to be the best part of to-night’s function, for I made it myself though, if Tom Harkaway is in the audience, and Bess follows out her plan of having the flowing bowl within reach all the evening, I’m afraid it’ll need an under-study along about nine o’clock.  He’s a dry fellow, that Harkaway.

[Exit Perkins, dragging Yardsley by the arm.

Barlow (calling after them).  Don’t you touch it, Bob.  It’s potent stuff.  One glass may postpone the performance.

Yardsley (from behind the scenes).  Never fear for me, my boy.  I’ve got a head, I have.

Barlow.  Well, don’t get another. (Turning to Mrs. Perkins.) Suppose we rehearse that scene where I acquaint you with Cobb’s real position in life?

Mrs. Perkins.  Very well.  I’m ready.  I’m to sit here, am I not? [Seats herself by table.

Barlow.  And I come in here. (Begins.) Ah, Lady Ellen, I am glad to find you alone, for I have that to say—­

Mrs. Perkins.  Won’t you be seated, Mr. Featherhead?  It was such a delightful surprise to see you at the Duchess of Barncastle’s last evening.  I had supposed you still in Ireland.

Barlow (aside).  Good.  She little thinks that I have just returned from Australia, where I have at last discovered the identity of the real Earl of Puddingford, as well as that of this bogus Muddleton, who, by his nefarious crime, has deprived Henry Cobb of his patrimony, of his title, aye, even of his name.  She little wots that this—­this adventurer who has so strongly interested her by his nepotic—­

Mrs. Perkins (interrupting).  Hypnotic, Mr. Barlow.