Lillian. Oh, you perceive, friends, that the culprit has acknowledged that the learned doctor does have victims. Here is a serious question for you. Shall we admit the daughter of a murderer to our learned and elegant society?
Dorothy. If you are going to insult my father, Lil Norton, I don’t want to join your old society.
Lillian. Is the candidate getting touchy? Smooth her ruffled feelings, guards. (Girls smooth Dorothy vigorously.)
Dorothy. There! That will do. My feelings aren’t ruffled any more.
Lillian. Drop the candidate’s paternal parent with a sharp thud. (Bee drops a book.) He is dropped. We will proceed. Miss Mason, you may take up the cross-examination.
Vivian. Does your mother ever wash her face?
Dorothy. Of course.
Vivian. Is it seemly, sisters, to admit to our circle the daughter of a washerwoman?
Dorothy. My mother isn’t a washerwoman, Vivian Mason!