BETSY. (_who, during the latter part of MOUSER’S speech, has entered L. D. F. and come down, L._) Yes, and where’s my shop? MOUS. (C.) Exactly. Where’s my shop--I mean---- (_sees BETSY_) Holloa! BET. (_seeing MOUSER, and then bursting into a violent fit of laughter_) Ha, ha, ha! Oh, my! What a Guy! Ha, ha, ha! MOUS. What d’ye mean by a Guy? (_suddenly recollecting. Snatches CRUMMY’S hat out of his hand, and puts it on_) And how--how the deuce did you get out of that room? BET. I never was in it! MOUS. Ha, ha! That’s right, Miss Baker! Stick to it, Miss Baker! Perhaps you’ll go so far as to say that it wasn’t you who did me the honour just now of boxing my ears, and run away with my wig. BET. (L.) Certainly not. MOUS. Then who was it? I repeat, who was it? MRS. M. (_entering at door, L._) Your wife, sir! MOUS. Anastasia! Crummy, take me away, and put me somewhere. CRUM. (_R. C., aside to him_) Do as I do, and all will be right! (_aside to BETSY, and giving her a paper_) There’s the lease of the little shop, back me in all I say. MRS. M. Now, Mr. Mouser, what have you to say for yourself? CRUM. (_suddenly bursting into a fit of laughter_) Ha, ha, ha! (_aside to BETSY and MOUSER_) Go it. Ha, ha, ha! (_MRS. MOUSER enraged, walks up Stage, L._) MOUS. } } (_laughing immoderately_) Ha, ha, ha! BET. } CRUM. Capital. Ha, ha, ha! (_holding his sides_) MOUS. Delicious. Ha, ha! (_imitating him_) BET. Glorious. Ha, ha! (_aside_) I wonder what I’m laughing at. MRS. M. (L.) Mr. Mouser, I insist on your instantly explaining. CRUM. He can’t speak for laughing--can you, Mouser? (_nudging MOUSER, who is looking very serious_) MOUS. (R. H.) No. (_bursting out again_) Ha, ha, ha! MRS. M. (_to BETSY_) Young woman, speak this moment! (_angrily_) BET. (_R. C., alarmed_) Yes, ma’am. It’s not my fault, ma’am, indeed it isn’t--(_half crying_)--but you see, ma’am. (_CRUMMY nudges her--then suddenly_) Ha, ha, ha! CRUM. (_crosses L. C._) I must explain after all, I see--Anastasia Mouser, not an hour since--and in terms as forcible as they were pathetic--you brought a grave and heavy charge against your husband. MRS. M. (_aside to CRUMMY, and rapidly_) Hush! CRUM. Yes, Anastasia Mouser--and that charge was, that he was “_too attentive by half._” It almost broke his heart. Didn’t it, Mouser? MOUS. (_affecting pathos_) As near as a toucher! CRUM. But suddenly a smile lighted up his benevolent countenance--(_MOUSER smiles_)--and he said to me, “Crummy, I’ve an idea.” Didn’t you, Mouser? MOUS. Yes, I distinctly said, “Crummy, I’ve an idea.” BET. I’ll swear to it. I heard him. MRS. M. (_suddenly_) I see it all. MOUS. (_aside_) That’s lucky. I’m damned if I do. CRUM. And I determined to teach you this lesson--that the wife, who could complain of too much attention from a husband, could only be cured of her error by being led to suspect that that affection was bestowed on another. (_gets round behind to R._) MOUS. Exactly.