(Motioning towards ottoman.) Won't you sit--(She breaks off
with an irrepressible cry of alarm as she catches sight of the
pistol. The man, all nerves, shies like a frightened horse.)

MAN (irritably). Don't frighten me like that. What is it?

RAINA. Your pistol! It was staring that officer in the face all
the time. What an escape!

MAN (vexed at being unnecessarily terrified). Oh, is that all?

RAINA (staring at him rather superciliously, conceiving a
poorer and poorer opinion of him, and feeling proportionately
more and more at her ease with him). I am sorry I frightened
you. (She takes up the pistol and hands it to him.) Pray take it
to protect yourself against me.

MAN (grinning wearily at the sarcasm as he takes the pistol).
No use, dear young lady: there's nothing in it. It's not loaded.
(He makes a grimace at it, and drops it disparagingly into his
revolver case.)

RAINA. Load it by all means.

MAN. I've no ammunition. What use are cartridges in battle? I
always carry chocolate instead; and I finished the last cake of
that yesterday.

RAINA (outraged in her most cherished ideals of manhood).
Chocolate! Do you stuff your pockets with sweets--like a