Mrs. Toovey. Althea is out of the room, Pa, so there is no reason why you should not speak out plainly.
Mr. Toovey (to himself). No reason—oh! But I must say something. If only I knew whether it was my Eldorado—but, no, it's a mere coincidence! (Aloud—shakily.) Charles, my boy, you—you've shocked me very much indeed, as you can see. But, about the name of this establishment, now—isn't it a curious one for—for a music-hall, Charles? M—mightn't it be confused with—well—say a mine, now?
Mrs. T. Theophilus, this is scarcely the tone——. I expected you to give this misguided boy a solemn warning of the ruin he may incur by having anything to do with such a haunt.
Mr. T. (to himself). Ah, I'm afraid I'm only too well qualified to do that. (Aloud.) I do, Charles, I do—though at the same time, I can quite understand how one may, unwittingly—I mean, you might not be aware of——
Mrs. T. You, Pa, of all people in the world, trying to find excuses for his depravity! The very name of the place is enough to indicate its nature!
Mr. T. (hastily). No, my love, surely not. There I think you go too far—too far altogether!
Mrs. T. I appeal to Mr. Curphew to say whether such a place is a proper resort for any young man.
Curphew (to himself). Wish I was well out of this! (Aloud.) I—I really don't feel qualified to give an opinion, Mrs. Toovey. Many young men do go to them, I believe.
Charles (to himself). Is this chap a prig, or a humbug? I'll draw him. (Aloud.) I suppose, from that, you never think of going yourself?
Mrs. T. Mr. Curphew's tastes are rather different from yours, Charles. I am very sure that he is never to be seen among the audience at any music-hall, are you, Mr. Curphew?