"Oh!" I replied. "So you're the funny man of a pantomime, are you?"
"Yes," he said.
"Which one?"
"All of them," he said.
"Good," I replied. "I have long wanted a talk with you. There are things I want to ask you. Why, for instance, do you always pretend to be a grimy slum woman?"
"It seems to be expected," he said.
"Who expects it? The children?"
"What children?"
"The children who go to pantomimes," I said.
"Oh, those! Well, they laugh," he replied evasively.