I must trouble you for your pocket handkerchief.
Miss B. It is curious, isn't it, that they must be made afresh every
day?
Mr. A. So it is; though I confess it never struck me in that light
before. I don't fancy, however, that old Brown, the gardener, makes
his quite so often.
Miss B. You may depend that he has it made for him, though.
Miss C. (from under the handkerchief). At any rate, according as he
makes it, his fate will be affected accordingly. You know the proverb?
Mr. A. (removing the handkerchief). You have fairly earned your release.
By the way, do you remember an old paradox upon this subject, "What
nobody cares to give away, yet nobody wishes to keep?"
Miss E. Ah! now you have let out the secret. I certainly don't wish
to keep mine for long together, but I would willingly give it away if
I could get a better.
Miss B. Tell me your guess. (Miss E. whispers.) Yes, you have hit it.
I was afraid Mr. A.'s last "light" was rather too strong.
And so the game goes on, until every player is in the secret, or the
few who may be still in the dark "give it up" and plead for mercy.
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