BOX. I have it! Suppose we draw lots for the lady—eh, Mr. Cox?
COX. That’s fair enough, Mr. Box.
BOX. Or, what say you to dice?
COX. With all my heart! Dice, by all means (eagerly).
BOX (aside). That’s lucky! Mrs. Bouncer’s nephew left a pair here yesterday. He sometimes persuades me to have a throw for a trifle, and as he always throws sixes, I suspect they are good ones. (Goes to the cupboard at R., and brings out the dice-box.)
COX (aside). I’ve no objection at all to dice. I lost one pound seventeen and sixpence at last Barnet Races, to a very gentlemanly-looking man who had a most peculiar knack of throwing sixes; I suspected they were loaded, so I gave him another half-crown, and he gave me the dice. (Takes dice out of his pocket; uses lucifer-box as substitute for dice-box, which is on table.)
BOX. Now, then, sir!
COX. I’m ready, sir! (They seat themselves at opposite sides of the table.) Will you lead off, sir?
BOX. As you please, sir. The lowest throw, of course, wins Penelope Ann?