MOUS. Ha, ha! That’s right, Miss Baker! Stick to it, Miss Baker! Perhaps you’ll go so far as to say that it wasn’t you who did me the honour just now of boxing my ears, and run away with my wig.
BET. (L.) Certainly not.
MOUS. Then who was it? I repeat, who was it?
MRS. M. (entering at door, L.) Your wife, sir!
MOUS. Anastasia! Crummy, take me away, and put me somewhere.
CRUM. (R. C., aside to him) Do as I do, and all will be right! (aside to BETSY, and giving her a paper) There’s the lease of the little shop, back me in all I say.
MRS. M. Now, Mr. Mouser, what have you to say for yourself?
CRUM. (suddenly bursting into a fit of laughter) Ha, ha, ha! (aside to BETSY and MOUSER) Go it. Ha, ha, ha!
(MRS. MOUSER enraged, walks up Stage, L.)
| MOUS. | } | (laughing immoderately) Ha, ha, ha! |
| BET. |