Tilly. Oh! You impudent young rascal, how dare you insult a full-grown man; you without so much, as an ’air to your upper lip.
Dibbs. I’d rather have no mustarchers than a couple of blacking brushes under my ears! He’s gone now! You’d better look on me with an eye of admiration.
Tilly. You! You bare-faced brat! Smoking, too! Won’t you be ill, that’s all.
Dibbs. Pooh! I’ve been a smoker ever since I was a boy! (Mr. Selwyn’s voice heard outside calling Dibbs.) Hullo! the old rooster’s up early! (Voice, “Dibbs!”)
Tilly. I shall be off, he’s sure to be out of temper; masters and missuses are always grumpy when they first get up. (Dibbs kisses Tilly, who slaps him. Exit, L. U. E.)
Sel. (heard off). Dibbs, are you coming?
Dibbs. Yessir! (He endeavors to extinguish lighted cigar by blowing on it, then opens window and fans the air with feather brush to get rid of smoke.)
Enter Selwyn, looking very seedy, R. 3 E., in dressing-gown and carrying a tall hat in his hand which he holds behind him. He has an “up-all-night” appearance.
Sel. What the deuce are you doing?
Dibbs. Dusting, sir! (He hides cigar in trousers’ pocket.)