Spurr. (dolefully). You can say "James Spurrell" —you needn't bellow it, you know!
Tred. (ignoring this suggestion). Mr. James Spurrell.
Spurr. (to himself, on the threshold). If I don't get the chuck for this, I shall be surprised, that's all!
[He enters.
Scene X.—In a Fly.
Undershell (to himself). Alone with a lovely girl, who has no suspicion, as yet, that I am the poet whose songs have thrilled her with admiration! Could any situation be more romantic? I think I must keep up this little mystification as long as possible.
Phillipson (to herself). I wonder who he is. Somebody's Man, I suppose. I do believe he's struck with me. Well, I've no objection. I don't see why I shouldn't forget Jim now and then—he's quite forgotten me! (Aloud.) They might have sent a decent carriage for us instead of this ramshackle old summerhouse. We shall be hours getting to the house at this rate!
Und. (gallantly). For my part, I care not how long we may be. I feel so unspeakably content to be where I am.
Phill. (disdainfully). In this mouldy, lumbering old concern? You must be rather easily contented, then!
Und. (dreamily). It travels only too swiftly. To me it is a veritable enchanted car, drawn by a magic steed.