Don't you threaten me with your inky finger, Miss Hesslerigge, please.
PEGGY.
Ugh! Haven't we sworn to help Dinah Rankling with our last breath? Haven't we sworn to free her from the chains of tyranny and oppression, and never to eat much till we have seen her safely and happily by her husband's side!
ERMYNTRUDE.
Yes—but we can't truckle to a pale and stumpy boy, you know.
PEGGY.
We can—we've got to. If Dinah's husband is ever to enter this house we must crouch before the instrument who opens the door—however short, however pasty.
DINAH.
[Calling outside.] Are you there, girls?