Mrs. D. Vot! No twins alretty!
Topp. No, Dubbledam. I’ve changed my mind. In short, I might as well tell you now to put the house in order. I’m going to marry!
Mrs. D. Marry! Mine cracious!
Mrs. T-K. (Starts.) Marry! Then I suppose I may at least—(Embarrassed, stops.)
Topp. Congratulate me? Yes. The prettiest little blonde (or brunette, as case may be; here describe Angie.) imaginable.
Mrs. T-K. (Aside.) Angie! she was right. (To T.) I congratulate you. I—yes, I hope you’ll be happy.
Topp. Thank you. Dubbledam, show the lady out. I wish you a very good day, madam. (Exeunt Mrs. D. and Mrs. T-K. L.) What a ridiculous misunderstanding. Pshaw, who cares! Love rises superior to misunderstandings. (Hums snatch of song.) I’m too happy to be annoyed at anything, and, hold on—am I too happy for it to last? In the bright dictionary of youth—
Enter Gin. L. Showing in Mr. Twiggs.
Gin. (Announces.) Mr. Twiggs.
Twiggs. I beg pardon for the interruption. You were speaking of the lexicon. Lexicon, permit me, sir, is the better word. Nothing like it to polish up orthography.