Topp. (Turning.) Sir?
Tick. I called in relation to a matter of mutual interest.
Topp. You are the individual who called before and spent an hour, on pretense of business, in listening to my private affairs and reading my letters. Your interest in my affairs is altogether too great.
Tick. (Brusquely.) Allow me if you please, this is business. I come with a message from her. (Crosses to C.)
Topp. From whom, pray?
Tick. You know well enough who. She declines the honor.
Topp. Do not speak in riddles. To whom do you refer?
Tick. To Miss Twiggs, of course.
Topp. (Furious.) Why you monkey, who are you? Her father has just been here. (Getting angrier.) You are insulting. I’ll have Potts kick you down stairs. (Rings bell.) Where is that lazy niggro?
Enter Spratt hastily followed by Ginger, L.