Pawnie
How old is he now?
Florence
Twenty-four. Isn’t it absurd to think I have such a grown-up son—old General Fenwick said last Thursday that—— [The telephone rings; she goes to it.] Hallo—hallo! Yes, my dear. How are you?... Yes, so am I, simply worn out.... No. When? How perfectly marvelous!... No, dear, it’s a prescription; but I can let you have a little in a jar.... Quite easy. All you do is just rub it on at night.... Don’t be so silly.... Not in the least; if you send the car round that will be all right.... Very well.... Good-bye, darling. [She hangs up receiver.] I give Clara Hibbert ten for stupidity. Don’t you, Helen?
Helen
A hundred and ten.
Pawnie
Ten’s the limit.
Tom