Dibbs. Yes, sir, waiting in your dressing-room—and please, ma’am, there’s your dressmaker waiting in your’s!
Sel. I mustn’t keep him waiting! If he got tired he’d lose his temper and I should probably lose a bit of my chin.
(Exit, R. U. E.
Grace. Interrupted again! It is vexing!
Mrs. S. I can’t keep Mrs. Frillet, or she’d never let me know the latest fashions before anyone else! Dibbs, go to the Circulating Library and ask for the “Frozen Tear.”
Dibbs. Yes, ma’am! Shall I wait while it’s put in ice, ma’am.
Mrs. S. Stupid boy! The “Frozen Tear” is by Horace Tompkins, it’s his latest and most fiery production. Go!
(Exit Mrs. Selwyn, L. U. E.
Dibbs. First she says it’s frozen, then it’s fiery! She may call it poetry, I call it bosh! (Grace sits, L.)
Sel. (putting head in at door, R., and beckoning Dibbs). Remember, Dibbs, I am at home to no one!