You little devil. I’m only afraid of one thing. GWEN: What? COLIN: You’ll make me serious. Then we shall all starve. GWEN: I shouldn’t care. COLIN: I should. JOHN: Well. I’ve had my telegram. COLIN: What telegram? JOHN: My man’s bought my piano and every other damned thing in the whole attic. So we’re in the soup, now, Gwen, both of us! GWEN: Yes. JOHN: Good luck to you. (_He stretches out his hand._) GWEN (_taking it_): Thanks. And good luck to you. JOHN: By God, life’s _good_, isn’t it? COLIN: There’s someone knocking at the door. JOHN: See who it is. [_COLIN goes and opens the door._ COLIN: It’s Rosie. GWEN: Rosie!... I’d forgotten!... (_With sudden misgiving._) John, this isn’t going to stop us. JOHN (_very strongly_): No. Nothing’s going to stop us now. GWEN: But we must help her. JOHN: _Of course we must help her_; that’s part of our job.... Rosie! [_As he goes to the door the CURTAIN FALLS._ END OF THE PLAY Printed In Great Britain at _The Mayflower Press_, _Plymouth_. William Brendon & Son, Ltd. TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.