AUNT HANNAH. Pads!
JOHN. Take off those pads!
AUNT HANNAH. I don’t wear pads.
JOHN (advancing on AUNT HANNAH). You cheat! You dirty little turncoat—to make a fool of me like that.
AUNT HANNAH (jumping round table L.C. to R.). Don’t you touch me, sir. Don’t you touch me!
JOHN. Take off those rags, or I’ll thrash you! (Grabs at her skirt, which he tears off, leaving AUNT HANNAH in a very pronounced petticoat. JOHN pushes AUNT HANNAH till she falls on to couch down L.)
(Enter PAMELA from window R.C.)
PAMELA. John! John! I’m surprised at you—treating a woman like that.
(Crosses to AUNT HANNAH, kneeling by her.)
JOHN. A woman! (Gazes into AUNT HANNAH’S face.) Oh, good lor’, it’s a woman!