Twitters (trembling with excitement). But what, Charles?
Charles. But that he might not go elsewhere—for I saw that his end was crime—I sold him powdered sugar!
Twitters. Powdered sugar! A mountain has rolled off my breast! You’re an angel, Charles!
Hunker (enraged). You’re a damned mean apothecary!
Twitters. Officer, you don’t want me now?
Officer. I don’t see how all this makes any difference in the suit of Grimsby et al. v. Twitters,—criminal libel.
Twitters. Grimsby & Weeper!
Officer. Them’s the people. You called them rascally swindlers.
Mother. The makers of my tribute.
Twitters. They didn’t like my letter?