WAITER (entering anxiously through the window). Beg pardon, ma'am;
but can you tell me what became of that--- (He recognizes Bohun, and
loses all his self-possession. Bohun waits rigidly for him to pull
himself together. After a pathetic exhibition of confusion, he recovers
himself sufficiently to address Bohun weakly but coherently.) Beg
pardon, sir, I'm sure, sir. Was---was it you, sir?

BOHUN (ruthlessly). It was I.

WAITER (brokenly). Yes, sir. (Unable to restrain his tears.) You
in a false nose, Walter! (He sinks faintly into a chair at the table.)
I beg pardon, ma'am, I'm sure. A little giddiness---

BOHUN (commandingly). You will excuse him, Mrs. Clandon, when I
inform you that he is my father.

WAITER (heartbroken). Oh, no, no, Walter. A waiter for your father
on the top of a false nose! What will they think of you?

MRS. CLANDON (going to the waiter's chair in her kindest manner). I
am delighted to hear it, Mr. Bohun. Your father has been an excellent
friend to us since we came here. (Bohun bows gravely.)

WAITER (shaking his head). Oh, no, ma'am. It's very kind of you---
very ladylike and affable indeed, ma'am; but I should feel at a great
disadvantage off my own proper footing. Never mind my being the
gentleman's father, ma'am: it is only the accident of birth after all,
ma'am. (He gets up feebly.) You'll all excuse me, I'm sure, having
interrupted your business. (He begins to make his way along the table,
supporting himself from chair to chair, with his eye on the door.)