Wid. What o’clock is that, Twill?
Twill. Eight o’clock, sir.
Wid. Put up the shutters.
Twill. What the devil can he mean? We never shut until nine o’clock.
Enter WIDGETTS from chamber, R., kissing a note which he holds.
Wid. Well, don’t you hear me? Put up the shutters and close the establishment, directly.
Twill. Of coorse, sir. Never say it twice.
(Twill runs out by door, L., and is seen putting up the window shutters outside.)
Wid. This night I devote to the tender union of love and lobsters. The adorable Ma’amselle Cheri Bounce, the ballet dancer, at last consents to partake a little quiet supper with me here this evening. I must read her charming note once more. (Reads.) “Ma’amselle Cheri Bounce presents compliments to Mr. Whittington Widgetts, will feel happy to sup with Mr. W. W. this evening. Ma’amselle C. B. fears that female notions don’t correspond with supping with a single gent, but lobsters is stronger than prudence, therefore trusts to indulgence; at nine o’clock precise. P.S.—I’ll come in my blue visite and my native innocence, and hopes you’ll treat them with proper delicacy.” Glorious! Angelic creature! (Kisses the letter and puts it in his waistcoat pocket.) Oh! Widgetts, you lucky rascal, to have the happiness of a private and confidential supper with that magnificent girl, whose image has never left my mind since the evening I danced with her at the Casino. (Calls.) Twill!
Twill. (entering from door, L.) Sir?