Alma. You’d better settle, Dick.
Dick. (crosses to C.) Be beaten by a woman? No, by jingo, no! (puts on hat) I’ll find some other woman. Hang it all! there are plenty of women in the world—too many—hang them all! Good morning everybody; and may I be—— (runs against Susan, who re-enters, L.C., with telegram; he stops)
Susan. Oh! (recovering herself) Telegram, miss.
Dick. Telegram?
Alma. (who’s opened it) From Baker of the Colosseum. (Dick looks over her while she reads) “Hear you leave Dick. Come to me. Forty pounds a week. Wire answer. Reply paid.”
Dick. (snatching form, crosses to chair where Mrs. Dozey is asleep; puts his knee on elbow; wakes Mrs. Dozey) Look here, I’ll answer that. (writes) “Blake does not leave me. I pay forty-five. Mind your own business.” (gives form to Susan)
Alma. Forty-five.
Dick. It’s settled. (they shake hands; puts hat down on table with a bang, starting Dr. and Mrs. Dozey)
Mrs. D. Dionysius?
Dr. After mature deliberation, I have arrived at the conclusion that Mr. Dick did not intend to say “Antipodes.”