But I _saw_ it first. I saw it in your eyes the first time I ever met
you. Yes! Miss Hilda, do you see it in mine? Look. Look closely.
(_Approaching her_.) Because it's there. I must tell you. I can't wait
any longer. (_Feeling for her hand, vainly_.)

HILDEGARDE (_drawing back_). Mr. Tranto, is this the way you treat
father?

_Enter_ Mr. Culver, _back_.

CULVER (_quickly_). Hilda, go to your mother. She's upstairs.
HILDEGARDE. What am I to do?

CULVER. I don't know. (_With meaning_.) Think what the sagacious Sampson
Straight would do, and do that.

(Hildegarde _gives a sharp look first at_ Culver, _and then at_ Tranto,
_and exit, back_.)

CULVER (_turning to_ Tranto). My dear fellow, the war is practically
over.

TRANTO. Good heavens! There was nothing on the tape when I left the
Club.

CULVER. Oh! I don't mean your war. I mean the twenty-two years' war.

TRANTO. The twenty-two years' war?

CULVER. My married life. Over! Finished! Napoo!