Lamb. Guess she made the same mistake. You can fight and shake hands afterwards; it doesn’t go with kissing.
Sigsby. Man and woman were not made to fight. It was never intended.
(The woman’s “Marseillaise” has been taken up by the crowd. The chorus has been reached.)
Oh, damn your row! (He slams to the window; it was ajar.)
(Jawbones has entered, with his purchases.)
(Turning from window he sees Jawbones, goes to meet him.) Couldn’t they do anything?
Jawbones. (He has bought a new hat; has also brought back the remains. He shakes his head.) No good for anything else but a memento.
Sigsby. (With a grunt he snatches the thing and flings it into a corner. Tries on the new one.)
Jawbones. ’Ow’s it feel?
(Sigsby, with the help of Jawbones, attends to his appearance.)