FITZSIMMONS. [Triumphantly.] Wrong. It was the other knee.
MAUD. I ought to know.
FITZSIMMONS. You haven’t any birth mark at all.
MAUD. I have, too.
FITZSIMMONS. [Suddenly springing to her and attempting to seize her leg.] Then we’ll prove it. Let me see.
MAUD. [In a panic backs away from him and resists his attempts, until grinning in an aside to the audience, he gives over. She, in an aside to audience.] Fancy his wanting to see my birth mark.
FITZSIMMONS. [Bullying.] Then take a go at the bag. [She shakes her head.] You’re not Harry Jones.
MAUD. [Approaching punching bag.] I am, too.
FITZSIMMONS. Then hit it.
MAUD. [Resolving to attempt it, hits bag several nice blows, and then is struck on the nose by it.] Oh!