The Haggerty Woman need not say a word. You have only to look at her to know that her cigarettes are not gold-tipped. She tries to brazen it out, which is so often a mistake.
THE HAGGERTY WOMAN. ‘What care I? Mine is Exquisytos.’
No wonder they titter.
MRS. MICKLEHAM. ‘Excuse us, Mrs. Haggerty (if that’s your name), but the word is Exquiseetos.’
THE HAGGERTY WOMAN. ‘Much obliged’ (weeps).
MRS. MICKLEHAM. ‘I think I heard a taxi.’
MRS. TWYMLEY. ‘It will be her third this week.’
They peer through the blind. They are so excited that rank is forgotten.
THE HAGGERTY WOMAN. ‘What is she in?’
MRS. MICKLEHAM. ‘A new astrakhan jacket he gave her, with Venus sleeves.’