MRS. SYLVESTER (doubtfully).

I think so.

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY (with alacrity).

Well, if you really must—­

(Opens door D.F.)

MRS. SYLVESTER.

Till seven o’clock.

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

Till seven.

MRS. TEMPENNY.

Au revoir, dear. (Aside to him.) You won’t forget the—?

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

(Aside to MRS. TEMPENNY.) The two pounds, and the butcher; I won’t forget ’em.  I only hope the butcher may forget me.

(Exit MRS. SYLVESTER.)

MRS. TEMPENNY.

By-bye, sweetheart.

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

Ta, ta, Duckie.

MRS. TEMPENNY.

Don’t do too much—­remember your precious health.

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

All right, my love.

MRS. TEMPENNY (blowing a kiss).

There.

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY (blowing a kiss).

There.

MRS. TEMPENNY.

My own darling husband!

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

My angel.

(Exit MRS. TEMPENNY.)

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY (with a deep sigh of relief).

Thank heaven! (Sinks into armchair, and puts his feet on the mantelpiece) The corner is getting tight, Rembrandt.  This sort of thing won’t boil the pot.  It won’t, sonny, I assure you!  Where’s the sketch of my magnum opus.  ’Pon my word, I haven’t seen the thing for a month or more. (Gets up and rummages in a portfolio.) Ah, here we have it! (Holds up and contemplates a small charcoal sketch.) “Susannah before the Elders” beautiful! composition charming!  Rembrandt, old pal,—­I congratulate you!  But where’s the picture of it?  “Oh where, and oh where!” Rembrandt, you’re developing into a thorough-paced loafer.  You always had a talent that way, but of late you’ve broken your own record.  I’ll turn over a new leaf; I will, I’ll be a new man.  Why not?  We’ve the new woman; why not the new man?  Excellent idea.  Rembrandt Tempenny, the new man—­the coming man—­by George the GREAT man!  I’m in earnest, I’m in a fever.  I bubble over with noble resolutions.  I wish the tradespeople didn’t want cash—­tradespeople who want cash are so damping to noble resolutions!

(Gets out Easel and canvas, and takes off coat.)

(Door in Flat is kicked open.  Enter ROBERT ADDISON.)

ROBERT ADDISON.

Hullo!

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

Hullo!

ROBERT ADDISON.

How are you, old chap?

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

I’m the new man.

ROBERT ADDISON.

The devil you are!  What does it feel like?

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

Unfamiliar—­like somebody’s else’s boots.  I say, dear boy, can you lend me a couple of thick ’uns.

ROBERT ADDISON.