Barlow. First-rate. We'll have to make you act next. That's themost villanous grin I ever saw.

Yardsley. I'll write a tragedy to go with it. But I say, Thad, wewant those dining-room portieres of yours. Get 'em down for us, willyou?

Perkins. Dining-room portieres! What for?

Mrs. Perkins. They all skinnyk the fireplace would better be hid,Thaddeus, dear. It wouldn't look well in a conservatory.

Perkins. I suppose not. And the dining-room portieres are wanted tocover up the fireplace?

Yardsley. Precisely. You have a managerial mind, Thaddeus. _You_can see at once what a dining-room portiere is good for. If ever Iam cast away on a desert island, with nothing but a dining-roomportiere for solace, I hope you'll be along to take charge of it. Inyour arms its possibilities are absolutely unlimited. Get them forus, very very aged man; and while you are about it, bring a stepladder. (ExitPerkins, dejectedly.) Now, Barlow, you and Bradley help me with thispiano. Pianos may do well enough in gardens or pirates' caves, butfor conservatories they're not worth a rap.