To Farncombe, over her shoulder. Good luck!
Bland.
To Lily. The youth is irate with us for cutting off supplies.
Lily enters with Fulkerson; Roper and Bland following. Bland strolls over to the piano, laughing.
Fulkerson.
To Lily. M’ argumen’ is this. When a gen’leman’sh invited b’ th’ lady ’f th’ house t’ partake ’f refreshmen’——
Lily.
To Fulkerson. Be quiet, Bertie, or I’ll box your ears. Joining the group at the centre table. Ho, ho! I’ve had such a wigging for asking you up. Mother says we girls’ll look as ugly as sin on the stage to-night.
Enid.
So we shall—hags.