HORACE: We started--to rustle them along a bit. Why, they had _handbills_ (_holding one up as if presenting incriminating evidence--the_ SENATOR _takes it from him_) telling America what to do about deportation! Not on this campus--I say. So we were--we were putting a stop to it. They resisted--particularly the fat one. The cop at the corner saw the row--came up. He took hold of Bakhshish, and when the dirty anarchist didn't move along fast enough, he took hold of him--well, a bit rough, you might say, when up rushes Madeline and calls to the cop, 'Let that boy alone!' Gee--I don't know just what did happen--awful mix-up. Next thing I knew Madeline hauled off and pasted the policeman a fierce one with her tennis racket! SENATOR: She _struck_ the officer? HORACE: I should say she did. Twice. The second time-- AUNT ISABEL: _Horace_. (_looking at her husband_) I--I can't believe it. HORACE: I could have squared it, even then, but for Madeline herself. I told the policeman that she didn't understand--that I was her cousin, and apologized for her. And she called over at me, 'Better apologize for yourself!' As if there was any sense to that--that she--she looked like a _tiger_. Honest, everybody was afraid of her. I kept right on trying to square it, told the cop she was the granddaughter of the man that founded the college--that you were her uncle--he would have gone off with just the Hindu, fixed this up later, but Madeline balled it up again--didn't care who was her uncle--Gee! (_he throws open the window_) There! You can see them, at the foot of the hill. A nice thing--member of our family led off to the police station! FEJEVARY: (_to the_ SENATOR) Will you excuse me? AUNT ISABEL: (_trying to return to the manner of pleasant social things_) Senator Lewis will go on home with me, and you--(_he is hurrying out_) come when you can. (_to the_ SENATOR) Madeline is such a high-spirited girl. SENATOR: If she had no regard for the living, she might--on this day of all others--have considered her grandfather's memory. (_Raises his eyes to the picture of_ SILAS MORTON.) HORACE: Gee! Wouldn't you _say_ so? CURTAIN ACT III SCENE: _The same as Act II three hours later_. PROFESSOR HOLDEN _is seated at the table, books before him. He is a man in the fifties. At the moment his care-worn face is lighted by that lift of the spirit which sometimes rewards the scholar who has imaginative feeling_. HARRY, _a student clerk, comes hurrying in. Looks back_. HARRY: Here's Professor Holden, Mr Fejevary. HOLDEN: Mr Fejevary is looking for me? HARRY: Yes. (_He goes back, a moment later_ MR FEJEVARY _enters. He has his hat, gloves, stick; seems tired and disturbed_.) HOLDEN: Was I mistaken? I thought our appointment was for five. FEJEVARY: Quite right. But things have changed, so I wondered if I might have a little talk with you now. HOLDEN: To be sure. (_rising_) Shall we go downstairs?