And the aunt—the great-aunt—the great bore of a great-aunt! The very mention of 'em makes something go "tap, tap, tap, tap" at the top of my head.
Avonia.
Oh, I am sorry to hear this. Well, upon my word——!
Rose.
Would you believe it? 'Vonia—boys—you'll never believe it! I mayn't walk out with Arthur alone, nor see him here alone. I mayn't sing; no, nor sneeze even——
Avonia.
[Shrilly.]Not sing or sneeze!
Colpoys.
[Indignantly. ] Not sneeze!