Tick. You’re an openhanded fraud.
Mrs. T. How dreadful!
Angie. Rivals, I venture! How romantic! A real adventure!
Spratt. It is no romance, I assure you. My poor twins, Grover Cleveland Spratt and Benjamin Harrison Spratt are left fatherless—no I don’t mean that. They are—in short they are left.
Tick. Oh, he’s talking about his pups.
Spratt. (Furious.) If you say pups again there’ll be bloodshed. I won’t stand it.
Mrs. T. (Screams.) Oh, dear me! Josiah, can’t you do something?
Mr. T. If it’s a question of blood come outside. A grass plat is better to shed blood on than a carpet. We’ll paint the lawn red.
Spratt. (Going.) Come on!
Tick. Excuse me! (Looks at Angie.) I have an engagement here.