BROWN. Hush! A woman who can’t live without seeing me twice a day and that I haven’t been near for a week.
O’WALKER. Then go to her, Brown, and forget the perfidious Amelia. She’s made a fool of you, Brown, nobody can look at you and doubt it.
BROWN. How?
O’WALKER. Simply because she’s engaged to be married. I happen to know the fact, because the gentleman is the friend of an intimate friend of a friend of mine, I don’t know why he should be, but he is.
BROWN. Who is he? Tell me his odious name and place of abode, in order that I may instantly repair thither and sweep him off the surface of the earth.
O’WALKER. I can’t tell you his odious name—but his letters can, and Amelia Jones has got half a bushel of ’em at least—so go to her at once—ask for a few pounds of her best havannahs—she’ll open a particular drawer—then you’ll see the letters.
BROWN. How do you know?
O’WALKER. Eh! Why—because the friend of my friend’s intimate friend told him so and he told me; so as I said before there you’ll see the letters—you’ll pounce down upon them, carry them off in triumph—join me here,—and then we’ll decide upon future operations.
BROWN. That’s settled already—the friend of your friend’s intimate friend—dies—and now I’m off. (starting towards L.) Stop—(feeling his clothes) dry as a bone—so come to my arms. (embraces O’WALKER and runs off L.)
O’WALKER. There he goes, what an advantage a man of his protuberant proportions has in a crowd to be sure! I shall count every minute till he comes back with the letters. What a state of nervous agitation I’m in to be sure. Goodness gracious! Dibbs! I quite forgot Dibbs. Ah, there’s an omnibus! here! conductor! stop! (opening his umbrella and running towards L. and pushing against PATTY PECKOVER who enters with her parasol up and a pair of clogs in her hand)