Capt. (Aside.) They seem to be busy: I’ll just step out. (Exit, L.)
Grap. Ah, sacre! I am ver mouch fatigue, ver mouch all ovar. I have travel all ze day wiz my pack, and not sell ze fust thing; and I see your door open, and I slip in to show you my goods. You pardon me ver mouch.
March. Well, old chap, sit down. I’ve got a little job here. Why, the Captain’s gone!
Kitty. Yes, he has gone. You’re a pretty fellow, you are!—scared him about to death.
March. I’ll scare him if I catch him!
Kitty. No, you won’t!
March. Yes, I will! Making love to you, darn him!
Kitty. Pooh! I don’t care for him. I’m only amusing myself while Bige Parker’s away.
March. Bige Parker? Confound him! I’ll lick him, too!