Oh, you've stuck to going, then! Well, I daresay you're right, you know. You've a very bad cold. Nothing like change for a bad cold—change of scene, change of pocket-handkerchiefs, and so on.
MISS DYOTT.
But you don't say anything about your own lonely Christmas. I have married a man who is too unselfish.
[The centre door opens slightly, and the heads of the three girls, Peggy, Gwendoline, and Ermyntrude appear one above the other, spying.]
QUECKETT.
[Putting down his paper.] Lonely? By Jove, these inquisitive pupils of yours won't let a fellow be lonely! Upon my soul, they are vexing girls.
MISS DYOTT.
But they are a source of income, dear.
QUECKETT.
They are a source of annoyance. I've never had the measles. I've half a mind to catch it and give it to 'em. Now if I could only while away my evenings somewhere, these vexing girls wouldn't so much matter. [He rises, the heads disappear, and the door closes. Listening.] What was that?