Curph. No one who has had the benefit of your opinions of music-halls or their entertainers, can possibly imagine you went to one with any idea of amusing yourself, Mrs. Toovey.
Mrs. Toov. (without heeding him). And Pa, what will he say? When I think of all the wicked stories I've had to tell that poor dear man! And after he once finds them out, there's an end of all his respect for me, all my influence over him, all my power in this house—everything! Why, for anything I can tell, Pa may actually believe I went to that detestable place on what (to Curphew) I suppose your friends would call the—the (utterly breaking down) Tee-hiddle-dy-hi!
Charles (after a highly suspicious fit of choking). Don't think there's any danger of that, Aunt; but look here, how if I went into the study and kicked that little cad out, eh?
Mrs. Toov. And have the whole affair in the police reports! You're a pretty solicitor, Charles! But Pa knows by now, and oh, what in the world am I to do?
Charles. Well, my dear Aunt, it sounds an immoral suggestion, but, as you seem to have given Uncle a—hem—slightly picturesque version of your doings last Saturday, hadn't you better stick to it?
Mrs. Toov. What's the use? Didn't you hear that wretch say he'd found something in the box? It's my spectacles, Charles; a pair in a Rob Roy tartan case, which Pa gave me himself, and couldn't help recognising! I remember now, I left them there, and——(The door opens.) They're coming back!
Mr. Toov. (entering). That's really a very honest young fellow, my love, nothing will satisfy him but bringing in the article he's found, and seeing whether it belongs to you or not.
Mrs. Toov. (breathlessly). And have you seen it, Pa—have you seen it?
Mr. Toov. Not yet, dear love, not yet. He's getting it out of his great coat in the hall.