I can’t see why money is always getting in the way of our dreams. I often wonder what scoundrel it was who first invented money. MRS. RAY And yet we might now be able to have what we wished if---- PROFESSOR If? The eternal if? MRS. RAY (_She has gone to the table, placing rose there_) I was thinking of all we gave up for our children. PROFESSOR Wasn’t it jolly? MRS. RAY While we still dreamed of the house we two would build for ourselves. PROFESSOR With rooms for them, don’t forget that. MRS. RAY And now where are our children? PROFESSOR Living--maybe dreaming a bit of our dreams and not knowing it is ours. That’s the lovely thing about dreams: I like to think they are never lost. MRS. RAY Yet here we sit alone on our anniversary and they have forgotten. PROFESSOR The young have so many things to remember. MRS. RAY And we can _never_ build our house now. PROFESSOR Nonsense. We can go on building it just as though it were really possible. Come, little mother, let’s be young together to the end. I’ll have to throw another log on this make-believe open fire in _my_ house. (_He pulls the sofa around so it faces the radiator which he eyes dubiously._) Hm! That won’t stimulate the imagination. Wait! I know. (_He goes over to the table and smiling quaintly he lifts up the cake with its three burning candles and carefully places it on the low radiator. Then he presses a switch on wall nearby and the lights overhead go out, leaving only the candles, a desk lamp and the moonlight through the window to give the shadows life. He laughs and warms his hands before the candles as he would before a fire._) Come, dear, before my fire! By the way, is there a log fire in your dream-house, dear? MRS. RAY (_Smiling and fitting in with his fancy_) If you are to be with me, of course. PROFESSOR Well then we have a blazing fire in both our houses, eh? (_He sits beside her on sofa and they gaze at candles._) And how economical fuel is when you dream about it. I’ve got a whole forest waiting to be cut by me, to-morrow, after I’ve worked all morning on my new book. MRS. RAY And I’ve been to the musicale at the Biltmore. PROFESSOR What did you do this afternoon, dear? MRS. RAY (_Tapping his arm_) Oh, I had a brilliant reception. PROFESSOR Receptions are always brilliant. MRS. RAY But this one really was. I had André Gidet and Arsène Tailleur there. They are those clever new writers all Paris is talking about. PROFESSOR You didn’t enjoy their witticisms more than I did a pesky little bluejay that made fun of me as I fished in my emerald lake. MRS. RAY But surely even you would have envied me my dinner when the celebrated Mary Mevin explained her new symphony. PROFESSOR