GLADYS: (Runs into his arms.) Oh, you can—Where are they?
ALGERNON: They are in hock for the moment, but see, here are the tickets. I shall get them out, anon.
GLADYS: Dastardly wretch!!!!! With your pawn tickets to try and cop out a poor sewing girl. (Up at door.) There is the door, go! (Points other way.)
ALGERNON: (Up to her.) Why curse you, I'll—
GLADYS: Strike, you coward! (Chord.) (ALGERNON conducts Chord.)
ALGERNON: Coward!!!! (He conducts same Chord an Octave higher.)
GLADYS: Yes, coward. . . . Now go, and never cross this threshold again!!
ALGERNON: (Going up stage.) So, I'm fired with the threshold gag?
Very well, I go, but I shall return. . . . I shall return! (Exits.)
PHONSIE: (Blows pea-blower after him.) Who was that big stiff, mommer, the instalment man?
GLADYS: No, darling, he is the floor-walker in a slaughter house.