Zack. I was only consoling her a bit. (_He opens r. door._) Mrs. Munning. Then don't do it. Zack. No, mother. (_Exit Martha._) Mrs. Munning. This is' a pretty how do you do. Paul. Confound Joe Wrigley. I don't know where to get another man at such short notice. Mrs. Munning. And labour scarce, and all. Can you manage it with a man short? (_Zack shyly approaches the clothes on chair and, not lifting them, fingers them lovingly._) Paul. No, I can't. Mrs. Munning. You'll have to get somebody to-night, then. That's all. Paul. If I can. It's going to take some doing to find a steady man. Zack. Paul! Paul. What's the matter? Zack. Could I go? Paul. You! Zack. I'd dearly love to. Paul. You're no use. Zack. I know my hands are awkward, but I will try, Paul. I'll try so hard not to break anything. Mrs. Munning. He'd be better than nothing, Paul. Paul. I doubt it. Zack. Give me another chance. Paul. I gave you chance on chance. You're more trouble than you're worth. Zack. I'm not worth anything, and nobody knows it more than me. But couldn't I go this once, just to fill up? I'll be so careful, Paul. Mrs. Munning. It's saving a man's wages for the day. Paul. It's not a saving if he makes a mess of things. Our catering's got bad name enough without our making bad to worse. He's got no proper clothes. Zack. I'll wear Joe Wrigley's willing. (_He goes to them._) Paul. Joe Wrigley's a big man. Zack. Can I try them, Paul? Do let me try them on. Paul. Well, you can try, and show us what sort of a lout you look. Zack. Oh, hurrah! (_He jerks his coat off and fastens on the clothes._) Mrs. Munning. It's the best road out, Paul. Paul. A rotten best. Zack (_putting on the dress coat. It is far too large for him_). It will be splendid to be wearing black again. Paul. It's only for to-morrow, mind. (_Paul does not yet turn to look at Zack._) Mrs. Munning. Joe Wrigley's out of it six weeks or more. Paul. Joe Wrigley's finished himself with me. Zack can go to-morrow till I've time to look round. Zack. Suppose I'm not so bad to-morrow, Paul? Paul. Supposing pigs _'_ull fly. Let's have a look at you. Good Lord! Hold the trousers to you and let us know the worst. Now, I ask you---- Mrs. Munning. I can tack the bottoms up, Paul, and the rest is not so bad. (_Enter Virginia. She has a hat on and her letter in her hand._) Virginia. I've finished my---- Oh, Zack, you do look funny. CURTAIN. ACT II.