DE W. Come along. (taking his arm)
Exeunt DE WINDSOR and WHITEWASH, C. off L.
AGATHA. (looking about) Very foolish of my aunt not to fasten her bracelet better. It can’t be here;—I don’t believe she has been in this room. Tut, tut! (goes up, R.)
Enter THWAITES, L. D. 2 E.
THWAITES. (announcing) Mr. Pawkins!
Enter PAWKINS, L. D. 2 E., he bows on all sides as if the room were full of company. Exit THWAITES, L.
PAWKINS. Why, I’m blessed if there’s a soul here!—it’s werry inconsistent bowing to two strings of nobody. (suddenly sees AGATHA, R.) Oh, I beg pardon, miss;—perhaps you may think it’s like my impedence, but is the gov’ner in?
AGATHA. The—the—governor?
PAWKINS. Yes, the gov’ner here; not my gov’ner—no, bless you, he’s been under hatches long ago. I want Mr.—I’ve got his letter somewhere—Mr.—he’s something in the fancy soap line.
AGATHA. Oh, my papa—Mr. De Windsor.