JACK. Then, all I can say is, that you must have bribed Ronny to lead up to it.
IRIS. They might go on at the Palladium as “Ronald and Norah,” Ronald leaning over the piano in white gloves.
JACK. Norah in a smile and shoulder-straps threatening to return to Dixie.
NORAH (to BROXOPP). This, Mr. Chillingham, is the marriage of intellect on an equal basis, which I was advocating just now.
BROXOPP. You—er—were advo——?
JACK. Ronny, it’s your turn to say something brilliant.
RONNY. No, thanks, I’ll leave that to Norah’s husband. When they are living in intellectual companionship together, they can fire off epigrams at each other all day long. What a life! Don’t you agree with me, Mr. Chillingham? Have another bun, won’t you? (He takes one himself.)
BROXOPP. Miss Field was talking about the marriage of intellects. I remember. (To RONNY with the bun plate) No, thank you.
NORAH. Don’t eat too many, Ronny. We’ve got to beat them afterwards, you know. You’re not playing, Mr. Chillingham?
BROXOPP. No, I think I——