32
CRAIG’S WIFE
- busies herself examining the spot on the piano where he leaned, and settling the piano scarf carefully.
Craig
- Yes, sir, I think that’s what you’re trying to do, Harriet, just kid me.
Mrs. Craig
- Well now, do you think what I’ve been saying is at all improbable?
Craig
- No, it isn’t improbable; it’s just funny.
Mrs. Craig (crossing back to the table and gathering all her things up)
- The flowers were on the piano when I came in.
Craig
- Well, if they were they were for Auntie Austen.
Mrs. Craig
- Maybe they were. I sent them up to her room, anyway. So Mrs. Frazier probably thinks I thought they were for Auntie Austen. (She starts for the portières at the right, and he looks after her and laughs. She turns and looks at him) What are you laughing at?
Craig
- You.
Mrs. Craig
- Really?
Craig
- You’re very amusing to-night.
Mrs. Craig (coming forward at the right of the table)
- And I think you’re just a little bit reckless, Walter—sitting there tempting the temptress.
Craig
- You know, I think you’re getting jealous of me, Harriet.
