MRS. HUBBARD (sadly). No, I have no clothes.
MR. HUBBARD. Nor I.
MRS. HUBBARD. How can I possibly go without a diamond necklace? None of the Montmorency-Smythe women has ever been to Court without a diamond necklace.
MR. HUBBARD. The Hubbards are a proud race. No male Hubbard would dream of appearing at Court without a gentleman's gold Albert watch-chain. . . . Besides, there is another thing. There will be many footmen at Father Christmas's Court, who will doubtless require coppers pressed into their palms. My honour would be seriously affected, were I compelled to whisper to them that I had no coppers.
MRS. HUBBARD. It is very unfortunate. Father Christmas may have hundreds of presents waiting for us.
MR. HUBBARD. True. But how would it be to hang up our stockings again this evening—now that we know he knows we are here? I would suggest tied on to the door-knocker, to save him the trouble of coming down the chimney.
MRS. HUBBARD (excitedly). Henry, I wonder! But of course we will.
(They begin to take off—the one a sock, the other a stocking.)
MR. HUBBARD. I almost wish now that my last suit had been a knickerbocker one. However, we must do what we can with a sock.
MRS. HUBBARD (holding up her stocking and looking at it a little anxiously). I hope Father Christmas won't give me a bicycle. A stocking never sets so well after it has had a bicycle in it.