CRUM. Who?
MOUS. Betsy—in my wife’s room.
CRUM. Ah! Any one with her?
MOUS. Yes, my wig. This is your doing—this is your precious work. (seizing CRUMMY and shaking him) It was you—you who exposed me to the fascinations of this juvenile washerwoman. It’s through you that I have lost my peace of mind, and my wig. Where are they? Where’s my peace of mind? Where’s my wig?
(shaking CRUMMY again violently)
BETSY. (who, during the latter part of MOUSER’S speech, has entered L. D. F. and come down, L.) Yes, and where’s my shop?
MOUS. (C.) Exactly. Where’s my shop—I mean—— (sees BETSY) Holloa!
BET. (seeing MOUSER, and then bursting into a violent fit of laughter) Ha, ha, ha! Oh, my! What a Guy! Ha, ha, ha!
MOUS. What d’ye mean by a Guy? (suddenly recollecting. Snatches CRUMMY’S hat out of his hand, and puts it on) And how—how the deuce did you get out of that room?
BET. I never was in it!