Smythe.
Shaking hands. Don’t, girls, don’t; you’re smothering me.
Lily.
During a momentary lull, finding Farncombe standing before her and raising her eyebrows. You! Giving him her hand carelessly. Oh, it isn’t long before we meet again, is it?
Smythe.
Puffing and blowing. That’s the lot of yer. Phew! Where’s Lily? Lily here? The crowd divides, to allow him to advance. Seeing Lily, he opens his arms and she goes to him and lays her head upon his breast. Lil— patting her shoulders my dear!
Lily.
Half gaily, half tearfully. Ha, ha, ha! Carlton!
Smythe.
Go’blessyer! In another tone. Well, what about something to eat!