REV. A. HAVERTON (pompously): I will attend to it.
MRS. HAVERTON (whispering angrily): How can
you, Archibald! You haven't got
The ghost of an idea about the washing!
Sit down. (He does so.) (To Matilda) Send the
Girl in here.
MRS. HAVERTON sits down in a fume.
REV. A. HAVERTON: I think….
MRS. HAVERTON (snapping): I don't care what you think!
(Groans.) Oh, dear!
I'm nearly off my head!
Enter MISS COBLEY. (She bobs.)
Good evening, m'm.
MRS. HAVERTON (by way of reply):
Now, then! What's all this fuss about the washing?
MISS COBLEY: Please, m'm, the seven collars, what you sent—
I mean the seven what was marked—was wrong,
And mother says as you'd have had the washing
Only there weren't but five, and would you mind….
MRS. HAVERTON (sharply): I cannot understand a word you say.
Go back and tell your mother there were seven.
And if she sends home five she pays for two.
So there! (Snorts.)