Mrs. Abbey. Did you expect to have a private room all to yourself?

Fenton [looking around]. What am I to undress for?

Mrs. Abbey. The missus will be here in a minute.

Fenton. Good night! I'm goin'.

[Makes for door.]

Mrs. Abbey. What's the matter? Ain't you the Missus' new model?

Fenton. A model! Ha! Ha! You've sure got the wrong number this time. I'm in the dictionary line, ma'am.

Mrs. Abbey. Well, of all the impudence! You a book agent, and a-walkin' in here.

Fenton. Well, you asked me in, didn't you? Can't I see the missus, jest for a minute?

Mrs. Abbey [good-naturedly]. Very well. Here she is. [Confidentially.] And I advise you to remove that Spearmint from your mouth, if you want to sell any dictionaries in this house.