Miss O. Can't do any more than I have done. (To First M. M.) I gave you your stamps some time ago, didn't I?
First M. M. Oh, yes—yes, I had the stamps, thank you. But—but (with manner of man who is compelled to enter on a painful subject) there was my change—I—I gave you half a sovereign.
Miss O. (with cold suspicion). Don't remember it. You should have spoke about it at the time—but of course, if you say you haven't had it—I suppose——
[Deals out his change as if it was more than he had any right to expect.
Second M. M. One moment—am I to leave this form with you?
Miss C. No. Send it to the General Post Office in the regular way—they'll attend to it. You'll find all the directions there if you take the trouble to look.
Second M. M. Thank you very much. Good morning.
[Miss C. and Miss O. naturally take no notice of this piece of familiarity, and Second M. M. departs crushed, and gradually realises that he is slightly annoyed.
Third M. M. (presenting a telegram). Will you send this off at once, please?
Miss Orty (takes the form, and runs a disparaging eye over it, rather as if it were an unwelcome love-letter from some detested adorer). "Post mortem's" two words.