FALLON:  Yes, but he’s not dealing with a woman, now, he’s dealing with a man, with boots on.  Do as I tell you.

(MRS. HOWARD sits at writing desk and takes receiver off telephone.  FALLON leans against table right, puffing quickly on his cigar, and glancing impatiently at the valise that holds his revolver.)

MRS. HOWARD:  Give me the cafe, please.  Is this the cafe?  I want to speak to a Mr. Mohun, he is waiting to be called up—­oh, thank you. (To FALLON.) He’s coming. (To ’phone.) I have seen that man and he says he’ll take up that debt, and pay it.  Yes, now, at once.  You’re to wait for ten minutes, until he can get the money, and then, he’ll telephone you to come up.  I don’t know, I’ll ask. (To Fallon.) He says it must be in cash.

FALLON:  (Sarcastically.) Why, certainly!  That’ll be all right.  (MRS. HOWARD Places her hand over the mouth piece.)

MRS. HOWARD:  I’ll not let you pay him!

FALLON:  I’m not going to!  I’m going to give him just what’s coming to him.  Tell him, it’ll be all right.

MRS. HOWARD:  (To ’phone.) He says to tell you, it’ll be all right.  The room is 210 on the third floor.  In ten minutes, yes. (She rises.)

FALLON:  Now, then, you go back to Tom and get dinner ready.  Don’t forget I’m coming to dinner.  And the children must come to dinner, too.  We’ll have a happy, good old-time reunion.

MRS. HOWARD:  (With hand on door knob of door left.) Dick, how can I thank you?

FALLON:  Don’t let me catch you trying.

MRS. HOWARD:  God bless you, Dick. (With a sudden hope.) And you really believe you can make him go?

FALLON:  Don’t worry!  I’m sure of it.

MRS. HOWARD:  And, you think he won’t come back?

FALLON:  (After a pause, gravely.) I know he won’t come back.

MRS. HOWARD:  God bless you, Dick!

FALLON:  See you at dinner.

(MRS. HOWARD exits.  FALLON stands considering, and chewing on his cigar.  Then, he crosses room briskly and lowers the blind at each window.  Opens valise and examines revolver.  Places the revolver in his left hip pocket.  Then, in a matter-of-course manner from his right hand pocket, he draws his automatic pistol.  This, as though assured he would find loaded, he examines in a quick, perfunctory way, and replaces.  He crosses left to desk, and taking from it a cheque book, writes out a cheque, which he tears from the book, and holds in his right hand.  With left hand he removes the receiver from the telephone.)