Sir J. (R. C.) Please go, there's a good girl!
(Margaret departs regretfully R. 3 E. Mollentrave has been coming from the other side. He wears his usual air of supreme satisfaction)
Mollen. (up L. C.) You want me, Balsted? All going well?
Sir J. (savagely R. C. takes muffler off) Oh, wonderfully well. The way we're progressing is extraordinary—very!
Mollen. (his head on one side) The trained observer would almost detect a suspicion of—satire.
Sir J. Satire! Heaven forbid! It's true that the girl grows fonder and fonder—
Mollen. She has only tasted the jam so far—but the powder's working!
Sir J. She Josephs me from morning till night! She'll be calling me Joey soon. (down R. C.)
Mollen. (C.) No, no, Balsted! I should not encourage her in the use of the diminutive!