_Alexandrovitch._ Nonsense, love! He's only jealous because my caviare is so much rounder than his. _Marieovitch._ He knows I am tired of him. Lookout; here he is. _Enter_ Williamovitch _from behind a heap of buttered toast._ _Williamovitch_ (_sternly_). I know all. _Alexandrovitch_ (_pushing him over the edge of the tower_). Then take that! [_Exit_ Williamovitch. SCENE II. _A typefounder's in Italy, where they make the macaroni letters for the consomme._ _Gulielmo_ (_sorting the O's_). One million, three hundred and eighty-seven thousand, six hundred and forty-five. There are two missing, Maria. _Maria_ (_nervously_). Perhaps you counted wrong, Gulielmo. _Gulielmo_ (_scornfully_). Counted wrong! And me the best macaroni sorter in Italy! Now. let's get the "E's" together. (_After a pause_) Two million, four hundred and five thousand, two hundred and ninety seven. _Corpo di Bacco!_ There are two "E's" 'missing'! _Maria._ Don't you remember there was one "E" the reader wouldn't pass? _Gulielmo_ (_suspiciously_). I made another to take its place. There's some devilry in this. Maria, girl, what are you hiding from me? _Maria_ (_confused_). Oh, Gulielmo, I didn't want you to know. [_She takes a handful of letters from her lap and gives them shyly to him._ _Gulielmo_ (_sorting them_). Two "O's," two "E's," two "L's----" What's all this? _Maria_ (_overcome_). Oh! _Gulielmo._ "I LOVE GULIELMO." (_Ecstatically_). Maria! You love me? [_She falls into his arms._ SCENE III. _A whitebait stud farm at Greenwich._ Polly _is discovered outside one of the stables. Enter_ Alfred. _Polly._ Can't think what's the matter with Randolph this morning. That's 'is fifth slice of lemon, and 'e's as fierce and 'ungry as ever. _Alfred_ (_gaily_). Never mind the whitebait now, sweet'eart, when we're going to be spliced this afternoon. 'Ullo, 'ere 's Bill. _Enter_ Bill. _Bill._ Wot cher, Alf! The guv'nor wants yer. (_Exit_ Alfred _hastily._) And now, Polly, my girl, wot's all this about marrying Alf when you're engaged to me? _Polly._ Oh, Bill, I'm sorry. Do let me off. I love Alfred. _Bill._ I'll let yer off all right. [_He goes towards_ Randolph's _stable._ _Polly_ (_shrieking_). Bill! Wotcher doing? _Bill_ (_opening the stable door_). Just giving Randolph a bit of a run like. 'E wants exercise. [Randolph, _the fiercest of the whitebait, dashes out and springs at_ Polly's _throat._ _Polly._ Help! Help! _Bill._ P'raps Alfred will 'elp you--when 'e comes back. I'll tell 'im. [_Exit leisurely._ SCENE IV. _A saddler's shop at Canterbury, New Zealand._ _Molly._ Busy, Willie? _William._ Always busy at the beginning of the lamb season, Molly. The gentlemen in London will have their saddle. _Molly._ Too busy to talk to me? _Willie._ Plenty of time to talk when we're married. Shan't have to work so hard then.