Enter Ida, r., hurriedly.
Ida. O, quick, quick, Eva! I’ve got you such a partner! He’s all impatience. Quick! the music is just about to commence. I wouldn’t have you lose him for the world.
Eva. But Ida—
Ida. Don’t stop to talk. Come quick! quick! (Drags her off, R.)
Mulligrub (aside). Ha, ha! Dip’s left on the brink again.
Dasher (jumping up). Confound that girl! I’ve lost the chance. This comes of making a long story about a very short question. The precipice was a failure. I’ll go and pump the friend of the family. (Exit, C. Mulligrub comes from screen.)
Mulligrub. That can’t be Dip, after all. He’s after Eva. But he can’t have her. Thanks to his confidential assurance, I can send him over the precipice into the valley of disappointed hopes in short order.
Enter Kids, c.
Kids. Now weally, I saw Miss Ida enter this woom, positively saw her, and now she’s gone. Hallo! an intrudaw. Sir, I have not the honow of your acquaintance. This woom is the wesort, the westing-place of a bevy of divine goddesses. No masculine mortals are allowed to entaw here.
Mulligrub. Show! then you are not a masculine mortal, I take it.