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EPILOGUE
|
and frolic with lesser mortals). Ah! it'll be your turn next, Miss Jane. |
| Jane | (who has long had designs on this dignified bachelor). Oh, Mr. Hill, reely! You do poke your fun. |
[Raises her eyes to his, and drops them swiftly, leaving him with a pleasant sensation of having said a good thing particularly neatly, and a growing idea that he might do worse than marry Jane, take a nice little house in Chelsea somewhere, and let lodgings. He thinks it over.
| Tilby | (a flighty young person who, when she has a moment or two to spare from the higher flirtation with the local policeman, puts in a little light work about the bedrooms). Oh, I say, this'll be one in the eye for Riggetts, pore little feller. (Assuming an air of advanced melodrama.) Ow! She 'as forsiken me! I'll go and blow me little |
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