Kitty. What is it, Mr. Googin?
Googin. Go down to the basement and tell me wife to open the door to her lawful wedded husband.
Kitty. Why, of course I will. (Exits R.)
Googin (sits down comfortably and lights a cigar from his box). Sure, it's a sad Christmas for me, so it is, whin Honoria lets an ould picture come bechune a man and his wife. (Smokes.) Begorry, I smell something. (Sniffs.) It's awful. (Rises.) Some wan is burning some rubber. Maybe I've got too much hate on in the radiators. (Sniffs.) My, my, what an awful smell. (Removes cigar and looks at it, smells it, makes horrible grimace.) Oh, ho, so it's you, is it? (Throws it in cuspidor.) No wonder they call it Santas Odoriferous. If that cigar came from Havana they'd ought to take it back there again and give it a dacent burial.
Enter Eddie from R. with the hat in box.
Eddie. Say, Mr. Googin!
Googin. What is it, Eddie?
Eddie. Does you want to buy a nice Christmas present for a lady?
Googin. Maybe I do. What is it?
Eddie. A nice hat. Right in de latest style. Jes' come home from de millinery store. Mis' Lacey gib it to me for a Christmas present, and I ain't got no use for it.