Barrett
Very. (To himself.) He’s a terrible bore.
Mitchell
Delightful. (To himself.) I’m glad he’s done. (They bow and depart.)
Syphers
Dolts! Fogies! That’s always the way, dull and cautious.
Barrett
(As they walk up the street.) An ingenious theory, but dangerously speculative. He ought to read Stromeyer on “Impulse.”
Mitchell
I often wonder about his work and just how sound he is.
(Syphers reaches his own door and goes up the steps, unlocks it and mounts the inside stairs to his room. He lights the gas in a chamber which is half library and half bedroom.)