Kathryn. No one can ever take my father's place. It may sound like affectation, but it's not. Dill will be the butler.
Crapsey. That is impossible! In my school the women work and do all the work. (All the men and Dill are jubilant.) One thing still requires our attention. After what person, or persons, shall the institution be called?
Jack, Hargrave and Dill (displaying their now reluctant better halves). After my—
Crapsey. One name at a time, please.
Voices Three. The Convolvulus.
Crapsey. Then that is settled. Company fall in. (Crapsey stands superbly at the head; next Jane and Gloria; next Hargrave and Dill. Kathryn tries to hold Jack in last place with her, but he breaks away and goes up to Hargrave.)
Jack. I told you, father, that I was going to complete my education; and perhaps some day I shall have the distinction of a number. (Crapsey hits him a vicious crack with his sword just as Jack takes Jane's chattels away from her. These he adds to Gloria's already prodigious pile and joins the ranks.)
Kathryn. I feel just as if I were boarding the Ark.
Crapsey. The Baltic! Forward march! (They describe a short circle, Jack whistling the "Marseillaise," "Onward Christian Soldiers," or some terrible tango tune. Any old tune will not do, however, and care should be taken in its selection and use.)
Jack (disappearing). Dear me! It's five-fifteen, and they're beating their wives in London now. (Exeunt all.)