Whitwell (follows to door). Stay, oh, stay, Miss Coddle!
Jane (laughing). Ha, ha! Don’t flatter yourself, puppy. She’s not for you, jolterhead!
Whitwell (shakes Jane violently). I’m a jolterhead, am I? A puppy, am I?
Jane. Lord forgive me, I do believe he can hear! (Drops into chair.)
Whitwell (pulls her up). Yes, vixen! For you I hear perfectly. For your master, it suits me to be deaf. And, if you dare to betray me, I’ll let him know your treachery. I heard your impudent speeches, every one of them.
Jane. Oh, for mercy’s sake, Mr. Whittermat, don’t do that! My hair would turn snow in a single night! Think of my legacy!
Whitwell. Silence for silence, then, you wretched woman.
Jane. Certainly, certainly, Mr. Whittermat. Besides, now you ain’t deaf no longer, I like you first-rate. I accept your addresses j’yful.
Whitwell. Lucky for you, you witch.