MRS. SWEET. What do you mean? Not going?
SWEET. No, my dear, I have changed my mind. (STEPHEN lingers for further orders)
MRS. SWEET. What for? We are all ready, and here’s Mr. Short come home.
SWEET. Yes, but you see he is busy. (pointing to SHORT, who is eating voraciously) He doesn’t wish to go, and his wife remains at home to keep him company.
MRS. SWEET. But what in the name of goodness has all this to do with us?
SWEET. I tell you, Short doesn’t want to go—and I desire, Mrs. Sweet, there may be no further discussion on the subject—you understand! (imitating SHORT) “I don’t go!” (aside) That’s it, I think, as near as a toucher. (aloud) Stephen, do as I ordered you. (STEPHEN is about to go)
MRS. SWEET. Stop a moment, Stephen.
SWEET. How, Mrs. Sweet, you venture to counter-order——
MRS. SWEET. No, no, but tell me. How strange you are—just now, when I didn’t care about going, you were violently in favour of it; and now that I have consented and dressed myself to please you, you want to stay at home. My dear William—what nonsense! Of course, we must go now you have sent to say so. What can you be thinking about?