Meijer. Oh, indeed!—indeed! Well, art has made great strides.
Fournichon. Great strides, sir! You’re quite right there. Just feel now—elastic as india-rubber—quite like a human being.
Meijer. Wonderful! wonderful! But I am in a hurry—can you shave me?
Fournichon. Certainly, sir, sit down! [Gives him a chair between John and Charles, but rather more towards the back of the shop. Goes on shaving him, and talking at the same time.] Your barber, sir, does not know his business. Your skin and complexion are quite spoilt.
[John changes his position.]
Meijer (starting up). Good heavens!
Fournichon. No need to be uneasy, sir; there is nothing really dangerous.
Meijer. No, that’s not what I was thinking of,—but that doll of yours—the summer one—is moving!
Fournichon. Oh! that is nothing surprising—perhaps I stepped on the floor rather heavily. You must know these figures are full of steel springs inside, and the slightest vibration makes them move. Just look now!
[Stamps on the floor. John and Charles immediately change their positions.]