ÐÇ¿ÕÓéÀÖ¹ÙÍø

Mrs. Crombie (settling herself in arm-chair). Splendid—have you such a thing as a cigarette?

Daniel. A cigarette, yes, certainly.

Mrs. Crombie. And a match.

Daniel. And a match.

(He hands her a case, she takes one, goes to mantel for matches—then he strikes a match and lights it.)

Mrs. Crombie (girlishly). Now we can be quite comfortable, can't we?

Daniel. Quite. (Sits on Chesterfield.)

Mrs. Crombie. As I was saying just now, I had a brother out in South America.

Daniel. What part?

Mrs. Crombie. I'm not quite sure—we don't hear from him much—he was sent out there for—for—�

Daniel. I quite understand.

Mrs. Crombie. For his health.

Daniel. I know, they all are. It's a wonderful climate.

Mrs. Crombie. He hasn't written for ages and ages—we were wondering if he was making money or not—it