MRS. SYLVESTER.
I warn you, girl, my patience is nearly exhausted.
REMBRANDT TEMPENNY (aside).
So am I. My legs ache at the joints.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
You will either make a clean breast of it, or I shall take steps—
REMBRANDT TEMPENNY (aside to ROSALINE).
Let her take steps—that's what I want her to do.
MRS. SYLVESTER.
Ah, wait—doubtless my husband is in hiding. I will see.