Miss Goodchild. Oh, but that isn't my department, you see. You must go——(gives him elaborate instructions as to the place he is to apply to.)
The Person. Ah, if you had had the common courtesy to tell me all that before, I should not have wasted my time like this!
[Exit in wrath.
A Feeble Lady (to Miss Meekin). Oh, I just thought as I was passing by—may I put my umbrella here—and these parcels? thank you. I daresay you can tell me. Does the Mail for New Heligoland touch at Port Sandune? They go every other Friday, don't they? or is it changed to alternate Tuesdays now? and will there be anyone on board who would look after a box of Japanese rats if I sent them?—they'll want feeding, or something I suppose.
[Miss Meekin disentangles these inquiries, and answers them categorically to the test of her knowledge, information and belief.
Feeble Lady (disappointed). Oh, I quite thought you would know all about it! Then you wouldn't send the rats, you think?
Miss Meekin. No, I don't think I should send the rats, without someone in charge.
Feeble Lady. Oh, well, but I call it very unsatisfactory—did I put my umbrella down in this corner, or not? Oh, (slightly annoyed) you have it ... there must be another parcel, do see if you haven't put it away by mistake! No? Then it will be all right about the rats?
[Exit vaguely.
A Conversational Man (to Miss Mannerly). Warm, isn't it?