LADY K.—Why! Do you think I want that picture taken down: and another Mrs. Milliken? Wisehead! If Horace married again, would he be your banker, and keep this house, now that ungrateful son of mine has turned me out of his? No pretty woman shall come into the house whilst I am here.
K.—Governess seems a pretty woman: weak eyes, bad figure, poky, badly dressed, but doosid pretty woman.
LADY K.—Bah! There is no danger from HER. She is a most faithful creature, attached to me beyond everything. And her eyes—her eyes are weak with crying for some young man who is in India. She has his miniature in her room, locked up in one of her drawers.
K.—Then how the doose did you come to see it?
LADY K.—We see a number of things, Clarence. Will you drive with me?
K.—Not as I knows on, thank you. No, Ma; drivin's TOO slow: and you're goin' to call on two or three old dowagers in the Park? Thank your ladyship for the delightful offer.
Enter JOHN.
JOHN.—Please, sir, here's the man with the bill for the boats; two pound three.
K.—Damn it, pay it—don't bother ME!
JOHN.—Haven't got the money, sir.