PAUL. A rotten best.
ZACK (putting on the dress coat. It is far too large for him). It will be splendid to be wearing black again.
PAUL. It's only for to-morrow, mind.
(Paul does not yet turn to look at Zack.)
MRS. MUNNING. Joe Wrigley's out of it six weeks or more. Paul. Joe Wrigley's finished himself with me. Zack can go to-morrow till I've time to look round.
ZACK. Suppose I'm not so bad to-morrow, Paul?
PAUL. Supposing pigs 'ull fly. Let's have a look at you. Good Lord! Hold the trousers to you and let us know the worst. Now, I ask you——
MRS. MUNNING. I can tack the bottoms up, Paul, and the rest is not so bad.
(Enter Virginia. She has a hat on and her letter in her hand.)
VIRGINIA. I've finished my—— Oh, Zack, you do look funny.