What's up?
Imogen.
Oh, Wrench! p'r'aps my fortune's made!
Tom.
[Quite calmly.] Congratulate you, Jenny.
Imogen.
Do be quiet; don't make such a racket. You see, things haven't been going at all satisfactorily at the Olympic lately. There's Miss Puddifant——
Tom.
I know—no lady.