MR. HUBBARD (opening his gold watch). Try in here, my darling.
MRS. HUBBARD (surveying herself). How perfectly sweet! . . . Now let me put your watch-chain on for you, dear. (She arranges it for him—HENRY very proud.)
MR. HUBBARD. Does it suit me, darling?
MRS. HUBBARD. You look fascinating, Henry!
(They strut about the room with an air.)
MR. HUBBARD (taking out his watch and-looking at it ostentatiously). Well, well, we ought to be starting. My watch makes it 11.58. (He holds it to her ear) Hasn't it got a sweet tick?
MRS. HUBBARD. Sweet! But starting where, Henry? Do you mean we can really—But you haven't any money.
MR. HUBBARD. Money? (Taking out a handful) Heaps of it.
MRS. HUBBARD. Father Christmas?
MR. HUBBARD. Undoubtedly, my love. Brought round to the front door just now by some of his messengers. By the way, dear—(indicating the sock and stocking)—hadn't we better put these on before we start?