TARLETON. _[rising]_ Stop. _[Silence]._ Leave it at that. Enough said. You keep quiet, Johnny. Mr Percival: youre whitewashed. So are you, Patsy. Honors are easy. Lets drop the subject. The next thing to do is to open a subscription to start this young man on a ranch in some far country thats accustomed to be in a disturbed state. He-- MRS TARLETON. Now stop joking the poor lad, John: I wont have it. Has been worried to death between you all. _[To Gunner]_ Have you had your tea? GUNNER. Tea? No: it's too early. I'm all right; only I had no dinner: I didnt think I'd want it. I didnt think I'd be alive. MRS TARLETON. Oh, what a thing to say! You mustnt talk like that. JOHNNY. Hes out of his mind. He thinks it's past dinner-time. MRS TARLETON. Oh, youve no sense, Johnny. He calls his lunch his dinner, and has his tea at half-past six. Havnt you, dear? GUNNER. _[timidly]_ Hasnt everybody? JOHNNY. _[laughing]_ Well, by George, thats not bad. MRS TARLETON. Now dont be rude, Johnny: you know I dont like it. _[To Gunner]_ A cup of tea will pick you up. GUNNER. I'd rather not. I'm all right. TARLETON. _[going to the sideboard]_ Here! try a mouthful of sloe gin. GUNNER. No, thanks. I'm a teetotaler. I cant touch alcohol in any form. TARLETON. Nonsense! This isnt alcohol. Sloe gin. Vegetarian, you know. GUNNER. _[hesitating]_ Is it a fruit beverage? TARLETON. Of course it is. Fruit beverage. Here you are. _[He gives him a glass of sloe gin]._ GUNNER. _[going to the sideboard]_ Thanks. _[he begins to drink it confidently; but the first mouthful startles and almost chokes him]._ It's rather hot. TARLETON. Do you good. Dont be afraid of it. MRS TARLETON. _[going to him]_ Sip it, dear. Dont be in a hurry. _Gunner sips slowly, each sip making his eyes water._ JOHNNY. _[coming forward into the place left vacant by Gunner's visit to the sideboard]_ Well, now that the gentleman has been attended to, I should like to know where we are. It may be a vulgar business habit; but I confess I like to know where I am. TARLETON. I dont. Wherever you are, youre there anyhow. I tell you again, leave it at that. BENTLEY. I want to know too. Hypatia's engaged to me. HYPATIA. Bentley: if you insult me again--if you say another word, I'll leave the house and not enter it until you leave it. JOHNNY. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, my boy. BENTLEY. _[inarticulate with fury and suppressed tears]_ Oh! Beasts! Brutes! MRS TARLETON. Now dont hurt his feelings, poor little lamb! LORD SUMMERHAYS. _[very sternly]_ Bentley: you are not behaving well. You had better leave us until you have recovered yourself. _Bentley goes out in disgrace, but gets no further than half way to the pavilion door, when, with a wild sob, he throws himself on the floor and begins to yell._