VIOLA. Dick, you'll tell him. (As she goes out, she says to CLIFTON) Good-bye, Mr. Clifton, and thank you for writing such nice letters.
CLIFTON. Good-bye, Miss Crawshaw.
VIOLA. Just say it to see how it sounds.
CLIFTON. Good-bye, Miss Wurzel-Flummery.
VIOLA. (smiling happily). No, not Miss, Mrs.
[She goes out.]
CLIFTON. (looking in surprise from her to him). You don't mean—
RICHARD. Yes; and I'm taking the money after all, Mr. Clifton.
CLIFTON. Dear me, what a situation! (Thoughtfully to himself) I wonder how a rough scenario would strike the managers.
RICHARD. Poor Mr. Clifton!