Enter REBECCA, R. D., slapping the door behind her.
Was there ever such a temper as missus? I never see such a one—never! If master will keep staring at me, is that my fault, I should like to know?
Enter FASTMAN, door C. from L.
FAST. (L.) Rebecca!—just one word!
REBECCA. (R.) Here’s that tiresome Mr. Fastman again.
FAST. Well, have you anything to tell me? When is she coming home?
REBECCA. Lor, sir! why should you want to know? Missus has come home—she came home this morning.
FAST. No! you don’t say so! Where is she?
REBECCA. Where is she?—why, where should she be? In the next room, at breakfast with her husband, to be sure.
FAST. The deuce she is! Don’t talk so loud.