Kids. Hush! somebody’s coming. You must wetire.
Mulligrub. What, and lose the fun? No, I thank you.
Kids. You must, weally. The lady is coming. It would shock her delicate nerves were you to be pwesent at the interview. So go, that’s a dear fellah. (Pushes him back, C.)
Mulligrub (aside). He calls me a good fellah. Shall I fell him on the spot? No, I’ll wait; vengeance can afford to wait.
Kids. Do wetire, and, when it’s all ovaw, I will call you. (Pushes him back, C.) Good fellah.
Mulligrub. You’ll call me when it’s all over. (Aside.) I’ll be on hand while it’s going on.
[Exit, C.
Kids. There, the bwover of the husband’s bwover is excluded from the apartment of the wife of the bwover’s husband—no, that ain’t it, it’s the bwover’s wife’s husband—no, or—(Mulligrub enters, C., and gets behind screen.) Here she comes, lovely as a poppy, because she’s got a rich poppy. That’s good—owiginal, too.
Enter Ida, r.
Ida. Here I am, Mr. Kids, to fulfill my promise.