LINA. What right have you to ask? Have I asked am _I_ the first?

TARLETON. Youre right: a vulgar question. To a man like me,
everybody is the first. Life renews itself.

LINA. The youngest child is the sweetest.

TARLETON. Dont probe too deep, Lina. It hurts.

LINA. You must get out of the habit of thinking that these things
matter so much. It's linendraperish.

TARLETON. Youre quite right. Ive often said so. All the same, it
does matter; for I want to cry. _[He buries his face in his arms on
the work-table and sobs]._

LINA. _[going to him]_ O la la! _[She slaps him vigorously, but not
unkindly, on the shoulder]._ Courage, old pal, courage! Have you a
gymnasium here?

TARLETON. Theres a trapeze and bars and things in the billiard room.

LINA. Come. You need a few exercises. I'll teach you how to stop
crying. _[She takes his arm and leads him off into the vestibule]._

_A young man, cheaply dressed and strange in manner, appears in the
garden; steals to the pavilion door; and looks in. Seeing that there
is nobody, he enters cautiously until he has come far enough to see
into the hatstand corner. He draws a revolver, and examines it,
apparently to make sure that it is loaded. Then his attention is