Mrs. C. (much amused). It is, indeed! If only the poor wretch next door knew what was in store for him! Oh, if only I could silence my enemy in that way! But then, of course, I can't a blow a horn.
Mr. L. That isn't necessary; all you have to do is to work the bellows, and the thing goes by itself. Really, I strongly recommend you to invest in one.
Mrs. C. It would be a good plan, wouldn't it? Where did you say they are to be had?
Mr. L. I'll write down the address, if I can find a scrap of paper.
[Takes out a card-case from his pocket, pencils address on back of visiting card, and hands it to Mrs. C.
Mrs. C. Thank you so much, I'll certainly think about getting one (looks absently at the other side of the card) if they're not too dear, and——(Gasping.) Good gracious heavens!
Mr. L. (anxiously). What's the matter? Are you ill?
Mrs. C. (pointing to the printed side of the card in her hand). Is this your real address?
Mr. L. (much astonished). "No. 1, Yarborough Gardens?" Yes, certainly it is. Why do you ask?
Mrs. C. (faintly). Because—because I live next door at No. 3!!