[_Joining_ MARTIN _on the doorstep, his too-well-fitting clothes making an open secret of his stoutness_.] Well, well, did you think you’d find it here, listening to those everlasting chimes? But I’m glad you reminded me, Martin! I shouldn’t have slept a wink if I hadn’t known it was all right, every way! MARTIN. [_Again turning to go in._] Yes, sir, I put it on the table with the other packages---- SANFORD. Thanks. [_Laying a protesting hand on_ MARTIN’S _arm_.] But don’t go in yet, Martin! I--I want to talk. MARTIN. Yes, sir. SANFORD. [_Sentimentally looking up at the moon._] Just look at her! Isn’t she splendid? Doesn’t she---- [_He breaks into a fat chuckle._] Now just listen to that, will you? Don’t that show the state I’m in--callin’ the moon “her” and “she”! Why, that’s what they say in the magazines. I was readin’ one last night--[_With fatuous explicitness._] one of those _love_-stories! Why, Martin, I haven’t said “her” and “she” for forty years! MARTIN. [_Dutifully._] Yes, sir. SANFORD. [_Testily._] Well, don’t that show----? MARTIN. [_Dreamy eyes on the cedar over the cottage._] The moon’s beautiful, sir! SANFORD. [_With a pitying snort._] Beautiful! Why, Martin, beautiful’s no word for it! She--she’s elegant! Magnificent--er--“magnifique,” I think the French would call it! Such a romantic language, French! Mrs. McCormorant’s kept a French maid for years! But of course you couldn’t be expected to know, or--[_A sentimental hand on his heart._] or feel----! MARTIN. [_Suddenly attentive._] Not a pain, sir, in your heart? SANFORD. [_Starting irritably._] Pain?--in my heart? What are you talking about? MARTIN. Beg pardon, sir, but I understood the doctor said---- SANFORD. Damn the doctor! Don’t you know I only went to satisfy Evelina--Mrs. McCormorant? Why, I never was fitter in my life! But she does love me so--[_Sighing._] and I her! I her! Ah, Martin, again that is something _you_ cannot understand--when two hearts beat as one! [_Scornfully, as_ MARTIN _says nothing_.] I suppose you’d think it was a disease! MARTIN. Sir----? SANFORD. [_Holding him as both look into the garden._] Ah, no matter! Just think, Martin, this time to-morrow night we shall be here--she and I--here in the Bird’s Nest---- [_Chuckling._] Ha-ha--not bad, that, considering the nest-egg! I whispering sweet nothings into her little sea-shell ear! MARTIN. [_Edging away._] Beg pardon, sir, but shall I fetch the ear-trumpet up to your room?