“Oh, I know all about that!” interrupted Duke impatiently.
“Well, you’re not going to deny your own skill, I hope?”
Duke glared impotently with his little pig-eyes.
“And with the costliest costumes,” Tony went on blandly. “And all these puppets moreover with the latest mechanical contrivances, regardless of expense——”
“And don’t I give you the finest goodwill in East Anglia,” burst in Mr. Duke, “the Flippance Fit-Up with all its plays, prestige, and unique takings?”
“One thing at a time, old cock. Packed into a box that itself opens out and forms part of the stage, combining portability of props with——”
“Do dry up!” cried the maddened Duke. “If you’re not quick, Bianca will be back.”
“What’s that to me? To cut it short, I give you the finest marionette show in the world, with scenery, sky-borders, and plays complete, and an old-established reputation, a show that has played before the crowned heads of Europe, America, and Australia, and, like the workhouse boy in Mr. Dickens’s book, you ask for more. What say you, Jinny? Thinkest thou the Duke should have more?”
“We all want more,” said Jinny. “Air! Mayn’t I open the window?”
“Oh, excuse me.” Mr. Duke, evidently trained by his big doll, rushed to do it. “But haven’t I lost enough without losing my twenty-five pounds too?”