MAGGIE. John’s speech.
COMTESSE. You have written it yourself!
[MAGGIE is naturally indignant.]
MAGGIE. It’s typed.
COMTESSE. You guessed that the speech he wrote unaided would not satisfy, and you prepared this to take its place!
MAGGIE. Not at all, Comtesse. It is the draft of his speech that he left at home. That’s all.
COMTESSE. With a few trivial alterations by yourself, I swear. Can you deny it?
[No wonder that MAGGIE is outraged. She replaces JOHN’s speech in the bag with becoming hauteur.]
MAGGIE. Comtesse, these insinuations are unworthy of you. May I ask where is my husband?
[The COMTESSE drops her a curtsey.]