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ABRAHAM.

23

show what my heart feels. I must bravely keep back the welling tears, and hide my bitter sorrow under a mask of assumed gaiety.

MAS. I do congratulate you, Mary, on your luck. So far it has always been the young men of your own age; now the aged and the dotards are coming too, all joining in the rush to win your love!

MARY. All who love me shall get back a full return for their love.

AB. Come here, Mary, and give me a kiss.

MARY. Besides giving you sweet kisses I will wind my arms tight round your old neck and stroke it.

AB. I should like that.

MARY, (aside). What is this? What strange indefinable scent can it be that I am breathing? Why, it is a scent that brings back to me the fragrance of old times long past, the days of my innocence, when I used to keep away from evil!

AB. (aside). Now, now is the time for pretence. I must press my attentions on her in a joking sort of a way like a wanton young lad, or else my seriousness