MOUS. Do it. Do what?
CRUM. Wink at her.
MOUS. (with grandeur) Mr. Crummy!
CRUM. That’s right—brazen it out—but let me tell you, sir, I have had my eye upon you and that young woman for some time past.
MOUS. Oh, damn it, I can’t stand this! you forget that you’re a junior partner, sir.
CRUM. And you forget that I’m your wife’s cousin, sir—yes, sir! And I’ll not allow you to impose upon her with your pretended affection, you good-for-nothing little hypocrite you, while you carry on an intrigue under her very nose, sir.
MOUS. Nose, sir.
CRUM. No, sir! Neither will I suffer you to trifle with the feelings of one that I’m determined shall not fall into the trap you have laid, sir. You know who I mean—Baker, sir! (going round him in front to L.)
MOUS. I trifle with the feelings of a Baker! I lay a trap for a Baker! You’re talking nonsense, Crummy!
CRUM. Come, come. Now that you see I’ve found you out—tell me how you contrived to wheedle poor Betsy out of her affections?