[Aside, in irritation.]
Oh, the impudence of these men! How my nails ache to get at their ugly faces! [Crossing.]
How often have I told you that this apartment is not a public office?
POTIN.
But, my precious angel—
NANETTE.
Bah! Religion is abolished, and angels are suppressed! I wish friends were too!
POTIN.
[Laughing.]
Talk of the rack! What is it to a woman's tongue?