Marcus. Why, Si! old fellow, this is a princely gift. What is your calling, now?
Simon. My what is it?
Marcus. Your trade?
Simon. Bother trade! Don’t speak of it. I’m above all that, you know. I’m in the Ring now.
Marcus. The Circus Ring?
Simon. Do I look like an acrobat?
Marcus. The Prize Ring?
Simon. Prize humbug! Do I look like a bruiser? No, Mark: I’m a member of one of those mysterious rings, you know, which surround the government, keep it in its place, without which this glorious union would go to smash. Where’s Mr. Manning? I must see him at once.
Bess. He’s out, but will soon return.