Charlotte. He keeps nagging at me.
Doris begins to apply a white lotion to her face. She daubs it at a freckle on her nose, and gazes passionately at the resultant white splotch.
Doris [abstractedly]. I should think you’d get so you could stand him in public, anyways.
Charlotte. He makes me madder in public than anywhere else.
She gathers her bundles and goes angrily into the White House. Doris glances down at Mr. Jones, and, deciding hastily that she is too publicly placid, withdraws her person from sight.
Jones picks up his broom and is about to go inside when a uniformed chauffeur opens the gate and announces:
“The Honorable Joseph Fish, Senator from Idaho.”
And now here’s Joseph Fish, in an enormous frock-coat and a tall silk hat, radiating an air of appalling prosperity.
Fish. Good morning, Mr. Jones. Is my fiancée around?
Jones. I believe she’s in her boudoir, Senator Fish. How is everything down at the capital?