Topp. What has No. 5 to do with my mail? I have not advertised for any amanuensis. Take them to No. 5 and say it’s about the amanuensis.
Gin. (Bewildered.) A—man—you—and—what sort of a man did you say, sah?
Topp. Go! Say nothing! Pick up those on the floor.
Tick. (Aside.) The sly old dog. He’s hedging.
Topp. (Looking at envelope.) Potts!
Gin. Yis, sah!
Topp. How did the postman get this address mixed up with No. 5? That’s a plain enough 5.
Gin. Ye see it’s like dis, massa, he’s a new man an’ de painter done put so many querliques on de figgers when he painted new numbers las’ week dat ye can’t tell de 3 from de 5, nur de 5 from de 7. De 3 has a handle to it, an’ de 5 has whiskers, an’ de 7 looks powerful groggy, an’ sorter bow-legged.
Topp. Oh! high art on a transom. I see.