Mrs. Bradley.  Oh, Edward!

[Throws herself into Barlow’s arms.

Barlow (quietly).  Excuse me—­ah—­Mrs. Hawkins—­ah—­Bradley—­but I’m not—­I’m not your husband.

Mrs. Bradley (looking up, tragically).  Where’s Edward?

Mrs. Perkins.  Sit down, dear—­you must be completely worn out.

Mrs. Bradley (in alarm).  Where is he?

Perkins (rising and standing on one leg).  Fact is, Mrs. Bradley—­we don’t know.  He disappeared ten minutes ago.

Yardsley.  What do you mean?

Mrs. Bradley.  Disappeared?

Barlow.  Yes.  He went east—­at the rate of about a mile a minute.

Mrs. Bradley.  My husband—­went east?  Mile a minute?

Perkins.  Yes, on a bike.  Yardsley, take me by the shawl-strap, will you, and help me over to that chair; my back hurts so I can’t lie down.

Mrs. Bradley.  Ned—­on a wheel?  Why, he can’t ride!

Barlow.  Oh yes, he can.  What I’m afraid of is that he can’t stop riding.

Bradley (outside).  Hi—­Barlow—­help!

Mrs. Bradley.  That’s his voice—­he called for help.

Yardsley (rushing to window).  Hi—­Brad—­stop!  Your wife’s here.

Bradley (in distance).  Can’t stop—­don’t know how—­

Barlow (leaning out of window).  By Jove! he’s turned the corner all right.  If he keeps on around, we can catch him next time he passes.

Mrs. Bradley.  Oh, do, do stop him.  I’m so afraid he’ll be hurt.

Mrs. Perkins (looking out).  I can just see him on the other side of the square—­and, oh dear me!—­his lamp is out.

Mrs. Bradley.  Oh, Mr. Yardsley—­Mr. Barlow—­Mr. Perkins—­do stop him!

[By this time all are gazing out of window, except Perkins, who is nursing his ankle.

Perkins.  I guess not.  I’m not going to lie down in the road, or sit in the road, or stand in the road to stop him or anybody else.  I don’t believe I’ve got a sound bone left; but if I have, I’m going to save it, if Bradley kills himself.  If his lamp’s out the police will stop him.  Why not be satisfied with that?

Bradley (passing the window).  For Heaven’s sake! one of you fellows stop me.

Yardsley.  Put on the brake.

Barlow.  Fall off.  It hasn’t got a brake.

Bradley (despairingly, in distance).  Can’t.

Mrs. Perkins.  This is frightful.

Perkins (with a grimace at his ankle).  Yes; but there are other fearful things in this world.

Mrs. Bradley.  I shall go crazy if he isn’t stopped.  He’ll kill himself.

Yardsley (leaving window hurriedly).  I have it.  Got a length of clothes-line, Mrs. Perkins?

Barlow.  What the dickens—­

Mrs. Perkins.  Yes.

[She rushes from the room.

Mrs. Bradley.  What for?

Yardsley.  I’ll lasso him, next time he comes around.