The Magistrate: A Farce in Three Acts

by Arthur Wing Pinero

[Outside.] I beg your pardon, it is a quarter of an hour over our time.

[Agatha Posket has been sitting on the sofa; suddenly she starts, listening intently.

Mr. Posket.

[Outside.] I know—I know. I’m going directly I can get the boy away.

Agatha Posket.

[To herself.] Æneas!

Cis.

[Outside.] All right, Guv, you finish your bottle.

Agatha Posket.