Dolly. See here, young fellow—you might just as well save your breath. You're not going to come any game over me. We're not making any show, but we've kept decent, and we'll go on trying.
Jack. Where did you learn such ideas? What sort of men have you met?
Dolly. That's not the question—it's what sort of men my sister's going to meet!
Belle. Dolly, I'm sure you're mistaken about Jack——
Dolly (to Schmidt, who enters Left). Mr. Schmidt, my sister will be here to work to-morrow morning.
Schmidt. Vot?
Belle. But, Dolly——
Dolly (stamping her foot). Tell him!
Belle (feebly). All right, I'll come.
Dolly. Now then—come home. (Lifts her by the arm and starts to street.)