[Clapping down a paper parcel on the table.] As near like Mr. Wormington’s as possible—brighter if anything.
Mr. Posket.
[Opening the parcel, and finding a very common, gaudy neckkerchief.] Good gracious! What a horrible affair!
Lugg.
According to my information, sir—like Mr. Wormington’s.
Mr. Posket.
Mr. Wormington would never be seen in such an abominable colour.
Mr. Wormington.
Well—really—I—[Removing the handkerchief from his throat.] I am extremely sorry.