Jawbones. You can do a bit o’ dressing on it.
Ginger. (She meets his admiring eye. The suffragette departs.) Dressing don’t cost much—when you’ve got tyste.
Jawbones. Wot! Not that ’at?
Ginger. Made it myself.
Jawbones. No!
Ginger. Honour bright! Tell yer—
(Geoffrey and St. Herbert enter. Jawbones and Ginger make to rise. Ginger succeeds.)
Geoffrey. All right, all right. Don’t let me disturb the party. Where’s Mr. Sigsby?
Jawbones. Gone to look up the police, I think, sir. (Having finished, he rises.) Some of those factory girls been up to their larks again.
Geoffrey. Umph! What’s it about this time?