L. ANNE. So-I'll just get under here. [She gets under the table] Do I show?
JAMES. [Stooping] Not 'arf!
[POULDER enters from the hall.]
POULDER. What are you doin' there?
JAMES. [Between him and the table—raising himself] Thinkin'.
[POULDER purses his mouth to repress his feedings.]
POULDER. My orders are to fetch the bomb up here for Lady William to inspect. Take care no more writers stray in.
JAMES. How shall I know 'em?
POULDER. Well—either very bald or very hairy.
JAMES. Right-o! [He goes.]