Need a body cry?
Mrs. Fergus: Yes, I think I’ll be going. Good-evening.
[She goes, and meets Burns at the door.]
Burns: She’s draiglet a’ her petticoatie, Mrs. Fergus. Missions of comfort, eh?
Mrs. Fergus: I hope you’ll find Dumfries very improving, Mr. Burns. Good-evening.
[She goes.]
Burns (after her): The removal will have its compensations, Mrs. Fergus. (Coming in.) Andrew, my son. Just a drop? (Filling glasses.) I was coming to see you.
M’Pherson: You’ve been long enough.
Burns: Time’s a fleet colt, Andrew. (Handing a glass.) Here’s your good health.
[They drink.]