Bobbie. There! Do you like it.

Faith (putting magazine down—ecstatically). Oh, Bobbie, that's simply too sweet for words. It has a something about it—did you really write it for me?

Bobbie (ardently). Every note.

(Bobbie plays a well-known and hackneyed song.)

Faith. Bobbie! that's wonderful! Wonderful!! It's the best you've ever done. Now I know you are clever.

Bobbie (coming C.). Yes! but I didn't write that one.

Faith (goes to him). Oh! didn't you. Well, I know you would if you had thought of it—but never mind——

Faith. Can you play the Indian Love Lyrics—I never get tired of them!

Bobbie. I don't want to play any more, I want to talk to you.

Faith. What shall we talk about?

Bobbie. I could tell you such wonderful things—but I don't know whether you would understand.

Faith (pouting