The Blackbird
Don’t smite your brow! In spite of the Screech-Owl’s grave and self-important tone, I shouldn’t wonder if it all amounted to very little.
The Pheasant-hen
Those Owls—
The Blackbird
Are good enough in their various parts, but it’s the old excessive style of acting.
The Pheasant-hen
I beg your pardon?
The Blackbird
Back numbers!
The Pheasant-hen
Oh?
The Blackbird
They have eyelashes, fancy, all the way round their eyes! It’s too much of a good thing, really.—And that black plot, those desperately dark designs, all that belongs to the year one; you can see moss growing on its back!
The Pheasant-hen
[Fluttering hither and thither feverishly.] I am never quite sure of understanding when a person is talking in fun.
The Blackbird
[Winking at her.] No flies on your acting!
The Pheasant-hen
Surely you wouldn’t be laughing if he were in danger? Those ruffians—?