Doris has him firmly by the arm. She leads him up to Jerry, who sets down his glass and blinks at them.
Doris. Gosh! This room smells like a brewery. [She notices the jars and the other débris of Jerry’s domestic orgy.] What on earth have you been doing? Brewing whiskey?
Jerry [attempting a dignified nonchalance]. Making cocktails.
Doris [with a long whistle]. What does Charlotte say?
Jerry [with dignity]. Charlit is up-stairs.
Doris. Well, I want you to meet my fiancé, Mr. Fish. Mr. Fish, this is my brother-in-law, Mr. Frost.
Jerry. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Fish.
Fish. How de do. [He laughs politely.]
Jerry [horribly]. Is this the undertaker?
Doris [tartly]. You must be tight.