Miss Claridge.

[Coldly.] Shall I cut your nails?

Frayne.

[Wofully.] That's it, dear young lady—you can't!

Miss Claridge.

[With hauteur.] Reely! Why not, sir?

Frayne.

I regret to say I bite 'em.

[He goes out. Miss Claridge titters loudly to Miss Limbird.

Sophy.