He's picked himself up—he waves his hand—all is well.
GROGGINS.
Which is it, sir? I allus likes to do business pleasant, only you must make up your mind, you know. Pay up, or lock up—take your choice.
MRS. TEMPENNY.
(At window. Excitedly aside.) He disappears—he's lost to view—the danger's past.
GROGGINS.
Well, if you won't speak, you won't, of course! I've done my 'umble best to do my dooty affable, and since you're sulky, why—(Going up to lay-figure) Mr. Rembrandt Tempenny, I've a warrant for your arrest.
(He slaps the lay-figure on the shoulder, it collapses with a crash).
GROGGINS (falling back in terror).
Got 'em again, as I'm a sinner!