washed. Rare books will come next.

KATE. So what?

TIPPY. Ted was born a gentleman. The rest of us merely went to
Harvard.

KATE. Believe it or not.

TIPPY. Katie, the coming revolution is poppycock. What's coming is
the same damn thing we used to have. And when it gets back it'll
take its old darlings back into its lap. Ted is one of them. So
hold his hand a little longer.

[_There is a hanging against the door with a foot._ TIPPY _opens
door, and_ LAURA _enters with a tall sack of groceries, which she
shoves into_ TIPPY'S _arms._]

LAURA. Hello. Where's the gang?

TIPPY. Some are in and some are out.

KATE. We speak of Fortune and Dame Fortune walks in.

LAURA. Bringing her own tea.

TIPPY. Fortune. Tea. Ceres. Cornucopia. [_Drops bag on arm, posing
as Goddess with the horn of plenty, and spewing groceries over the
table, fruit rolling to floor._]