Mr. T. (Nudging his wife.) Go slow at first.
Mrs. T. At your age, sir, to be a father to budding innocence is indeed a joy.
Topp. (Surprised.) A father! Yes, yes, no doubt you are right. (Aside.) Am I old Nestor himself, I wonder!
Mrs. T. To read love in its eyes each day.
Topp. (Aside.) That’s better! (To Mrs. T.) Delightful, madam, delightful!
Mrs. T. To hear innocence lisp in stammering accents is indeed—
Topp. Ecstatic, madam, I assure you. But I draw the line at stammering—does she stammer?
Mrs. T. You mean they.
Mr. T. (Nudging his wife.) He means her.