Perkins (looking at two tickets he has abstracted from his vest-pocket). Tickets for Irving--this evening--Lyons Mail--third rowfrom the stage. I was just thinking--

Mrs. Perkins. Don't tell me what you were thinking, my dear. Itcan't be expressible in polite language.

Perkins. You are wrong there, my dear. I wasn't skinnyking cuss-wordsat all. I was only reflecting that we didn't miss much anyhow, underthe circumstances.

Mrs. Perkins. Miss much? Why, Thaddeus, what _do_ you mean?

Perkins. Nothing--only that for action continuous and situationsoverpowering The Lyons Mail isn't a marker to an evening ofpreparation for Amateur Dramatics.

Enter Jennie.