Mrs. T. But Dizzie Jim an’ that Jew—
Town. My dear, they are guests of the hotel. I can’t tell ’em what to say. Jim Funk, this is a serious matter.
Jim F. You bet it is, major.
Mrs. B. Oh my nerves—is it comin’? (Bright flash of lightning.)
Town. (Peeps at crack in door.) Dark as Egypt and roarin’ like Tophet.
Mrs. B. Oh! oh! I shall smother.
Mrs. T. Pattie Baggs, keep quiet. Hollerin’ aint goin’ to stop it. My land, where’s Bridget an’ Susan. (Looks round.) They aint in; Townsley, do go an’ fetch them.
Town. It’s too late now. I guess they have run out the back way and got in Smith’s cellar.
Mrs. T. But maybe they haven’t an’ they’ll be killed sure.
Mrs. B. Oh goodness! If you talk of killing, you’ll kill me dead, and John—