Topp. (Desisting.) To be sure, there is a lady present.
Tick. There is, and don’t you forget it.
Topp. Forget what, sir?
Tick. That there is a lady present, a young lady!
Topp. (Glaring at him.) I shan’t forget it. I need no lessons in manners from you, sir.
Tick. I was only going to say that fighting is rude, and—
Topp. Have the goodness to cut short your disquisition. Now, are you ever going?
Tick. I’m waiting to be shown out.
Topp. I beg pardon, so you are. Where is that Potts? (Rings bell violently.) A niggro is the most aggravating of all evils. I’ll flog that boy.
Angie. (Aside.) What a very eccentric pair. Mr. Topp, I think I shall go. I will write you soon.