Fle. What order?
Jones. The order, sir, that I asked you for this morning, for the lady’s-maid of a marchioness, whom I met at Cremorne. I suppose you forgot it, sir?
Fle. Oh! I had other matters to attend to.
Jones. Of course, sir; of course. Then I’ll go myself, sir—in your name, sir, I’m sure to get it sir, as you write in the newspapers. Only, sir, if you should want me, sir, you will please to recollect that I am obliged to go out.
Fle. Not one word of her part—not one, and the piece is to come out on Wednesday. It’s enough to drive one mad.
Jones. I have always said, sir, that you have never been done justice to, sir; yet you will persist in writing for these second-rate theatres. If I was you, sir, I would not write again till government built a legitimate theatre for scenery.
Fle. That’s your opinion, is it?
Jones. Yes, sir, and it’s the opinion of Miss Penelope, too.
Fle. And who’s Miss Penelope?
Jones. The lady’s-maid I mentioned just now, sir. When I told her your profession, sir, she immediately asked if you authorised the legitimate drama.