VANE. My—my wife!
(All rise and bow. Colander places chair for Mrs. Vane.)
CIB. ’Fore Gad! he is stronger than Loungeville.
MABEL. You are not angry with me for this silly trick? After all I am but two hours before my time. You know, dearest, I said six in my letter.
VANE. Yes—yes!
MABEL. And you have had three days to prepare you, for I wrote like a good wife to ask leave before starting, ladies and gentlemen; but he never so much as answered my letter, madam (to Woffington, who winces).
VANE. Why, you c—c—couldn’t doubt, Mabel? (Cibber joins Snarl and Soaper at table L.)
MABEL. No, silence gives consent; but I beg your pardon, ladies (looking to Woffington), for being so glad to see my husband.
SNARL. ’Tis a failing, madam, you will soon get over in town (laugh).
MABEL. Nay, sir, I hope not; but I warrant me you did not look for me so soon.