POMPDEBILE. You! Where?
BOY. In my pocket. If someone would please hold my cinnamon jar—I could get it.
(UBSULA takes it. The boy struggles with his pocket and finally, triumphantly, pulls out a small jar.)
There!
VIOLETTA. How clever of you! Do you always do that?
BOY. What—eat raspberry jam?
VIOLETTA. No, supply the exact article needed from your pocket.
BOY. I eat it for my lunch. Please give me the hundred guineas.
VIOLETTA. Oh, yes—Chancellor—if I may trouble you.
(Holding out her hand.)