Mrs. F. (In door.) Oh horrors!
Mike. Hadn’t yez better put it back, docthor? He may nade it.
Dr. F. (Is so astonished that he holds the bag by the tube for a few seconds. Drops it in disgust.) What does this mean, you rascal?
Patsy. (Determinedly.) It means you can’t fill me up with tea and turn me back into a Chinaman. They did that trick in Hong Kong!
Dr. F. (Crossly.) What are you now? Irish or Chinese?
Patsy. Irish forever.
Miss S. (Sentimentally.) Dear me! I’m so disappointed. I did hope we had got a real Chinaman.
Dr. F. But confound you man, I hired you for a Chinaman. A bargain’s a bargain.
Patsy. That bargain is off.