Dumont. Now, what we have to do is to get the cash-box. Hallo! what’s that you’re sitting on?
Bertrand. Nothing.
Macaire. The table! I beg your pardon.
Dumont. Why, it’s my cash-box!
Maciare. Why, so it is!
Dumont. It’s very singular.
Macaire. Diabolishly singular.
Bertrand. Early worms, early worms!
Dumont (blowing in key). Well, I suppose you are still willing to begone?
Macaire. More than willing, my dear soul: pressed, I may say, for time; for though it had quite escaped my memory, I have an appointment in Turin with a lady of title.