Mrs. Perkins (snatching the flannel from Yardsley's hand). But
Teddy--isn't that a piece of Teddy's--Teddy's shirt?

Yardsley. More than that, Mrs. Perkins. It's the greater part of
Teddy's shirt. That's why we want the shawl-strap. When we started
him off, you know, he took his coat off. Jack held on to the wheel,
and I took Teddy in the fulness of his shirt. One--two--three!
Teddy put on steam--Barlow let go--Teddy went off--I held on--this is
what remained. It ruined the shirt, but Teddy is safe. (Aside.)
Barring about sixty or seventy bruises.

Mrs. Perkins (with a faint smile). And the shawl-strap?

Yardsley. I want to fasten it around Teddy's waist, grab hold of the
handle, and so hold him up. He's all right, so don't you worry.
(Exit Mrs. Perkins in search of shawl-strap.) Guess I'd better not
say anything about the Pond's Extract he told me to bring--doesn't
need it, anyhow. Man's got to get used to leaving pieces of his
ankle-bone on the curb-stone if he wants to learn to ride a wheel.
Only worry her if I asked her for it--won't hurt him to suffer a
week.

Enter Bradley.

Bradley. Has she come yet?

Yardsley. No--just gone up-stairs for a shawl-strap.

Bradley. Shawl-strap? Who?