My father-in-law! [They retreat hastily.]
RANKLING.
[Madly.] Who let you out? Who let you in? [He goes out after them—Mrs. Rankling follows.]
MRS. RANKLING.
[As she goes out.] Archibald! continue your dear old self. [Queckett enters by another door, Miss Dyott following him—both out of breath. They look at each other, recovering themselves?]
QUECKETT.
I understand that you wish to speak to me, Caroline.
MISS DYOTT.
Oh, you—you paltry little man! You mean ungrateful little creature! You laced-up little heap of pompous pauperism! You—you—I cannot adequately describe you. Wretch!