cologne in one hand, a small decanter of brandy in the other, and a
wineglass held in the hollow of her arm against her breast. She
contrives to set the glass down on the mantel and fill it from the
flagon, then she turns with the decanter in her hand, and while she
presses the glass to her husband's lips, begins to pour the brandy
on his head. 'Here! this will revive you, and it'll refresh you to
have this cologne on your head.'

ROBERTS, rejecting a mouthful of the cologne with a furious sputter,
and springing to his feet: 'Why, you've given me the cologne to
DRINK, Agnes! What are you about? Do you want to poison me? Isn't
it enough to be robbed at six o'clock on the Common, without having
your head soaked in brandy, and your whole system scented up like a
barber's shop, when you get home?'

MRS. ROBERTS: 'Robbed?' She drops the wineglass, puts the decanter
down on the hearth, and carefully bestowing the flagon of cologne in
the wood-box, abandons herself to justice: 'Then let them come for
me at once, Edward! If I could have the heart to send you out in
such a night as this for a few wretched rosebuds, I'm quite equal to
poisoning you. Oh, Edward, WHO robbed you?'

ROBERTS: 'That's what I don't know.' He continues to wipe his head
with his handkerchief, and to sputter a little from time to time.
'All I know is that when I got--phew!--to that dark spot by the Frog
Pond, just by--phew!--that little group of--phew!--evergreens, you
know--phew!--'

MRS. ROBERTS: 'Yes, yes; go on! I can bear it, Edward.'