Tompson. Just with this table, thank you, Marie. [They begin to rearrange the room, putting it in its normal condition. They replace the table and put back the ornaments upon it.] Poor Mr. Hunter, and him so fond of mince pie. I shall never forget how that man ate mince pie.
[She sighs lugubriously and continues her labor with the room.
Leonard. I hope as how it's not going to make any difference with us.
Jordan. [Pompously.] Of course not; wasn't Mr. Hunter a millionnaire?
Tompson. Some millionnaires I've known turned out poor as Job's turkey in their coffins!
Marie. What you say? You tink we shall 'ave some of madame's or ze young ladies' dresses?
Tompson. [Hopefully.] Perhaps.
Marie. I 'ave already made my choice. I like ze pale pink of Mees Jessie.
Leonard. Sh! I heard a carridge.
Tompson. Then they're coming back.