MIZ. (Whispers.) Hold your tongue! you don’t know who is on the other side.
BOLT. No, nor don’t care, if it is the devil.
MIZ. But it is worse, it’s—oh—h—h!—old master, between us and the door!
BOLT. Zounds! we are blockaded. Bolt, Bolt, thy courage is out.
MRS. S. What is the matter, gentlemen?
MISS B. You seem uneasy. (WAITER brings in, L. 2 E., fowls and a newspaper: he leaves newspaper with COTTON, and then passes on to the other table, where he places fowls, and exit, L. 2 E.)—Well, I shall take off my cloak and bonnet. (Does so, and hangs them on a chair.)
BOLT. Egad, as there is no exit, I must e’en make the best of it. (Sits down between ladies.) This wing?—a slice of the breast? &c.
MIZ. (Aside.) If I could but pass that old curmudgeon! Egad, I have it—they are all looking at the fowls, far more interesting objects than myself.
(Makes signs to BOLT—slips MISS BROWN’S cloak and bonnet off chair—retires to back and puts them on.)