Tom.
Look to the springs, good Ablett, for this comely lady will be my companion.
Mrs. Mossop.
Dooce take your impudence! Give me your other hand. Haven't you been to rehearsal this morning with the rest of 'em?
Tom.
I have, and have left my companions still toiling. My share in the interpretation of Sheridan Knowles's immortal work did not necessitate my remaining after the first act.
Mrs. Mossop.
Another poor part, I suppose, Mr. Wrench?
Tom.
Another, and to-morrow yet another, and on Saturday two others—all equally, damnably rotten.