Fanny. O, dear! O, dear!
Lizzie. O, who'd have thought!
(They separate, Hetty and Fanny, l., Lizzie, r., Miss Precise, c.)
Miss P. Speak, young ladies; upon whom has your dread anathema been bestowed?
Lizzie. Well, Miss Precise, if I must tell, it's that hateful new pupil, Miss Jones. I detest her.
Fanny. I can't abide her.
Hetty. She's horrible!
Lizzie. So awkward!
Fanny. Talks so badly!