the wood?

(The breathing ceases.)

COADE. No one was with me.

(And is resumed.)

MRS. COADE. No ... lady?

COADE. Certainly not. (Then he spoils it.) I am a bachelor.

MRS. COADE. A bachelor!

JOANNA. Don't give way, dear; it might be much worse.

MRS. COADE. A bachelor! And you are sure you never spoke to me before?
Do think.

COADE. Not to my knowledge. Never ... except in dreams.

MABEL (taking a risk). What did you say to her in dreams?

COADE. I said, 'My dear.' (This when uttered surprises him.) Odd!

JOANNA. The darling man!

MRS. COADE (wavering). How could you say such things to an old woman?

COADE (thinking it out). Old? I didn't think of you as old. No, no,
young--with the morning dew on your face--coming across a lawn--in a
black and green dress--and carrying such a pretty parasol.

MRS. COADE (thrilling). That was how he first met me! He used to love
me in black and green; and it _was_ a pretty parasol. Look, I am old...
So it can't be the same woman.

COADE (blinking). Old? Yes, I suppose so. But it is the same soft,
lovable face, and the same kind, beaming smile that children could
warm their hands at.

MRS. COADE. He always liked my smile.

PURDUE. So do we all.

COADE (to himself). Emma!

MRS. COADE. He hasn't forgotten my name!

COADE. It is sad that we didn't meet long ago. I think I have been
waiting for you. I suppose we have met too late? You couldn't
overlook my being an old fellow, could you, eh?

JOANNA. How lovely; he is going to propose to her again. Coady, you
happy thing, he is wanting the same soft face after thirty years!

MRS. COADE (undoubtedly hopeful). We mustn't be too sure, but I think
that is it. (Primly.) What is it exactly that you want, Mr. Coade?

COADE (under a lucky star). I want to have the right to hold the
parasol over you. Won't you be my wife, my dear, and so give my long
dream of you a happy ending?

MRS. COADE (preening). Kisses are not called for at our age, Coady,
but here is a muffler for your old neck.

COADE. My muffler; I have missed it. (It is however to his forehead
that his hand goes. Immediately thereafter he misses his sylvan
attire.) Why ... why ... what ... who ... how is this?

PURDIE (nervously). He is coming to.

COADE (reeling and righting himself). Lob!

(The leg indicates that he has got it.)

Bless me, Coady, I went into that wood!

MRS. COADE. And without your muffler, you that are so subject to
chills.