Mr. P. Hold on! What is there bold about it? But never mind, I’ll hear you out.
Clerk. Mr. Pinchem I want to ask—ask—I want to ask—
Mr. P. Well, why don’t you ask, then? I don’t see why you don’t ask if you want to.
Clerk. Mr. Pinchem I want to ask you for—for—
Mr. P. You want to ask me for the hand of my daughter. Ah! why didn’t you speak right out? She’s yours, my boy, take her and be happy. You might have had her two years ago if you had mentioned it. Go along, now, I’m busy. Seven times six are forty-two, seven times five are thirty-five and four are thirty-nine, seven times eight—
Clerk. Mr. Pinchem—
Mr. P. What! You here yet? Well, what is it?
Clerk. I want to ask you for—
Mr. P. Didn’t I give her to you, you rascal!