[To Tom.] Mr. Wrench, I congratulate ye; I have that honor, sir. Your piece will do, sir; it will take the town, mark me.
Tom.
Thank you, O'Dwyer.
Imogen.
Look at the sunshine! there's a good omen, at any rate.
O'Dwyer.
Oh, sunshine's nothing. [To Tom.] But did ye observe the gloom on their faces whilst ye were read in'?
Imogen.
[Anxiously.] Yes, they did look glum.