Mrs. Cloys.
Mercy on us! there’s only one topic that can present itself.
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
I am not often nonplussed. You had better watch me closely; follow my lead—tsch!
John enters with Olive, who is now without her outdoor
apparel.
John.
[After bowing to Mrs. Cloys.] How do you do, Sir Fletcher? [Nodding to Claude.] How are you, Emptage?
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
[With a wave of the hand towards Mrs. Cloys.] My sister, Mrs. Cloys.