Both. We must o-o-o-ow-n it is not "biz!"
Second Ditto. Well, no, I suppose it isn't, ARTHUR. By the way, what's that row behind there?
First Ditto. (looking). By Jove! it's that Gladstone gang! They've tracked us! (Sings)—
They're after us! They're after us!
We're the individuals they require.
Second Ditto. (sardonically). What a lyric répertoire you have, ARTHUR! Old English glee, Puritan psalmody. Music-hall song, all come equally well to you, it seems. But those roughs mean mischief, Nephew mine!
