BROXOPP. Yes, the rascal. Iris! (He holds out his hands to her.)
IRIS (taking them). Daddy Broxopp! Bend down. (He bends towards her and she kisses him gently on the forehead.) There! You don’t mind being called Daddy Broxopp? Nancy doesn’t mind; I mean being called Nancy. I’ve been talking it over with her, and she’s going to let me call her Nancy because she’s so young and pretty.
BROXOPP (enjoying it). And I’m not young and pretty?
IRIS. No, you’re middle-aged and Broxoppy. It’s a nice thing to be.
BROXOPP (taking her hands again). Thank you for thinking her young and pretty.
NANCY. I don’t feel very young, with a big son wanting to get married.
IRIS. He? He’s only a baby. (She blows a kiss to the picture.)
JACK (resigned). Oh, Lord!
BROXOPP. Well, Iris, if you’re as happy together as Nancy and I have been, you’ll do. Twenty-five years we have been married, and I always say that if it hadn’t been for Nancy——
NANCY (stopping him). Yes, dear.