Mrs. R. (laughing a little hysterically).  No—­no, JACK, it isn’t poor Snowball this time!  Wait, and you will hear something.

[The “Voice that Breathed o’er Eden” is suddenly rendered by an organ and full choir:  the remarks of two choristers (who are having a little difference over a hymn-book), and the subdued sniffs of MRS. MANDOLINE, being distinctly audible between the verses.

Mrs. R. (breaking down).  Oh, JACK, isn’t it beautiful?  Wasn’t it sweet of Uncle JOHN to give it to us!

Jack (who, privately, would have infinitely preferred a small cheque).  Yes—­he’s a good old buffer at bottom.

Mrs. R. He’s a perfect old love!  Tell me, JACK, you’re not sorry you married me, are you?

Jack. What a thing to ask a fellow Of course I’m not!

Mrs. R. (softly).  Do you know, JACK, I’m sometimes sorry I married you, though.

Jack (uneasily).  Come, I say, you know—­what on earth for?

Mrs. R. Because I should like to marry you all over again!...  Ah, I knew I should frighten you! (The final “Amen” of the Choir dies away, amid the coughing, rustling, and nasal trumpeting of last year’s Congregation.) There are some more cylinders, JACK—­shall we put them in next?

Jack (who feels sufficiently solemnised).  Well, if you ask me, I think they’ll keep till next year.  Pity to disturb the effect of that last, eh?

SECOND ANNIVERARY—­1894.

SAME SCENE AND TIME.  MRS. RIVENLUTE DISCOVERED ALONE.

Mrs. R. He might at least have made some allusion to the day—­it would have been only decent!  He can’t possibly have forgotten!  I don’t know, though, very likely he has....  Well, I’m not going to remind him!  I suppose he means to stay downstairs, smoking, as usual, all the evening.  Oh, if I could only make him ashamed of himself just once!... I know!  Uncle JOHN’S phonograph!  He can’t help hearing that. (She winds it up, as JACK R. enters, yawning.) Dear me, this is an unexpected honour. (Softening slightly.) Have you come up to keep me company—­for once?

Jack. Well, to tell you the truth, my dear, I fancy I left the evening paper here.  An, there it is.

[He seizes it, and prepares to go.

Mrs. R. You can read it here, if you like, you know—­I don’t mind your smoking.

Jack. Thanks—­but it’s cosier in the study.

Mrs. R. Of course I know that any place where I don’t happen to be is cosier in your opinion.

Jack. Oh, hang it, don’t begin all that again—­there, I’ll stay! (He chooses a comfortable chair.) What the doose is that?