Thin-haired Gentleman. Oh, oh! that’s a very stale sarcasm.
Short-sighted Gentleman. Mrs. Sorby’s coming out.
Fat Gentleman. And at our expense. (Threatening.) Madam Bertha, Madam Bertha!
Mrs. Sorby. Yes, but it is indisputably true that vintages may be vastly different. The old ones are the finest.
Short-sighted Gentleman. Do you reckon me among the old ones?
Mrs. Sorby. Oh, far from it!
Thin-haired Gentleman. There now! But me, sweet Mrs. Sorby.
Fat Gentleman. Yes, and me! In what vintage do you reckon us?
Mrs. Sorby. I reckon you among the sweet vintages, gentlemen.
She sips a glass of punch. The chamberlains laugh and joke with her.