ARABELLA. Well, I must go and finish dressing!
(goes out again, at door, R. 2 E.—PHŒBE watches her anxiously out, then runs to fireplace, and calls up the chimney)
PHŒBE. Triptolemus! Triptolemus! are you still there?
TRIPTOLE. (from chimney) Yes! Whoever takes this house will have to take me as one of the fixtures.
PHŒBE. There’s nobody here. You can come down! Make haste— (impatiently) make haste! (here one or both of TRIPTOLEMUS’S legs appear hanging down, and swaying about, as if trying to find a resting place, at the same moment, a knocking is heard at the door, L. 3 E.—alarmed) There’s somebody coming! You must get up again—make haste!
TRIPTOLE. Oh, bother! (kicking his legs violently about—knocks down the fire irons, which are standing on each side of the fire place—the legs are then suddenly drawn up, and disappear)
ARABELLA enters suddenly, R. 2 E., sideways as before.
ARABEL. What a dreadful noise! (she has her pork-pie hat on, and carries her shawl over her arm—here the knocking is repeated louder) Ah! there he is, at last! (calling) Come in, Mr. Sharp, come in.
Enter LUKE SHARP, L. 3 E.—he is dressed in a black dress coat, nankeen trousers, very short, white stockings, and shoes, a white waistcoat, and white cravat, with large full bows—his hair very shortly cut, or else very elaborately frizzed.
ARABEL. (reproachfully) At last, Mr. Sharp! Well, sir, I must say you haven’t hurried yourself.