Enter Susan, showing in Hyacinth Adonis Brown (Coleman), dressed as a caricature of the fashion, with lemon-coloured kid gloves, staring-patterned trousers, sporting-coat, etc.
Susan. This is the settin'-room, if you please, sir. Hyacinth (fixing his glass in his eye, and scrutinising the apartment). This is the settin'-woom, is it? to set, to incubate as a hen—can't mean that, I imagine—provincial idiom, pwobably—aw—ya'as—I dare say I shall be able to exist in it as long as may be necessary—ar—let me have dinnaar, young woman, as soon as it can be got weady.
Susan. Yes, sir. What would you please to like, sir?
Hyacinth (looking at her with his glass still in his eye). Hem! pwetty gal—ar—like, my dear, like?—(vewy pwetty gal!)
Susan. Beg pardon, sir, what did you say you would like?
Hyacinth. Chickens tender here, my dear?
Susan. Very tender, sir.
Hyacinth (approaching her). What's your name, my dear?
Susan. Susan, if you please, sir.
Hyacinth. Vewy pwetty name, indeed—(aside, Gal's worth cultivating—I'll do a little bit of fascination). Ahem! Chickens, Susan, are not the only things that can be tendar. (Advances, and attempts to take lier hand. Enter John hastily, and runs against Hyacinth, apparently by accident.)