Female P. Never mind, say Peterborough at the 'ard words—we shan't be none the wiser!
Daughter. "The sime-boalic ram the 'ero is to Peterborough and leave 'is Peterborough grotter—"
Male P. That'll do—read what it says about the next one.
Daughter (reading). "The Forge of Vulkin. Words are useless 'ere. Before sech a picture one can but look, and think, and enjoy it."
Both Parents (impressed). Lor!
[They smack their lips reverently; Miss TROTTER enters the Gallery.
Culch. (rising and going to meet her). Good morning, Miss TROTTER. We—ah—meet again.
Miss T. That's an undeniable fact. I've left Poppa outside. Poppa restricts himself to exteriors wherever he can—says he doesn't seem to mix up his impressions so much that way. But you're alone, too. Where've you hitched your friend up?
Culch. My friend did not rise sufficiently early to accompany me. And, by the way, Miss TROTTER, I should like to take this opportunity of disabusing your mind of the—er—totally false impression—
Miss T. Oh, that's all right. I told him he needn't try to give me away, for I could see you weren't that kind of man!