]
HORACE. Mr. Pike!
PIKE [apparently not hearing him, hammering at a bolt-head with a
monkey-wrench and singing].
"One lies down at Appomattox--"
HORACE [sharply]. Mr. Pike! Mr. Pike, I wish a word with you.
PIKE [looks up mildly]. Hum!
[He moves to the other side of the engine, rubbing handle of
monkey-wrench across his chin as if puzzled.]
HORACE. I wish to tell you that the surprise of this morning so upset me
that I went for a long walk. I have just returned.
PIKE [regarding the machine intently, sings softly].
"One wore clothes of gray--."
[Then he whistles the air. Throughout this interview he maintains almost
constantly an air of absorption in his work and continues to whistle and
sing softly.]
HORACE [continuing]. I have been even more upset by what I have just
learned from my sister.
PIKE [absently]. Why, that's too bad.
HORACE. It _is_ too bad--absurdly--monstrously bad! She tells me that
she has done you the honor to present you to the family with which we
are forming an alliance--to the Earl of Hawcastle--her fiance's father--
PIKE [with cheerful absent-mindedness--working]. Yes, sir!
HORACE [continuing]. To her fiance's aunt, Lady Creech--
PIKE. Yes, sir! the whole possetucky of them. [Singing softly.] "She was
my hanky-panky-danky from the town of Kalamazack!" Yes, sir--that French
lady, too.
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