[For MRS. LEMMY'S voice is floating faintly through: "I putt in the buttonholes, I stretches the flies; I 'ems the bottoms; I lines the crutch; I putt on this bindin'; I sews on the buttons; I presses the seams--Tuppence three farthin's the pair."] LEMMY. [In a hoarse whisper] That's it, old lydy: give it 'em! L. ANNE. Listen! VOICE OF LORD W. We are indebted to our friends the Press for giving us the pleasure--er--pleasure of hearing from her own lips--the pleasure---- L. ANNE. Oh! Daddy! [THOMAS abruptly closes the doors.] LEMMY. [To ANNE] Now yer've done it. See wot comes o' bein' impytient. We was just gettin' to the marrer. L. ANNE. What can we do for you now? LEMMY. [Pointing to ANNE, and addressing JAMES] Wot is this one, anywy? JAMES. [Sepulchrally] Daughter o' the house. LEMMY. Is she insured agynst 'er own curiosity? L. ANNE. Why? LEMMY. As I daon't believe in a life beyond the gryve, I might be tempted to send yer there. L. ANNE. What is the gryve? LEMMY. Where little gells goes to. L. ANNE. Oh, when? LEMMY. [Pretending to look at a match, which is not there] Well, I dunno if I've got time to finish yer this minute. Sy to-mower at. 'arf past. L. ANNE. Half past what? LEMMY. [Despairingly] 'Arf past wot! [The sound of applause is heard.] JAMES. That's 'is Grace. 'E's gettin' wickets, too. [POULDER entering from the door.] POULDER. Lord William is slippin' in. [He makes a cabalistic sign with his head. Jeers crosses to the door. LEMMY looks dubiously at POULDER.] LEMMY. [Suddenly--as to himself] Wot oh! I am the portly one! POULDER. [Severely] Any such allusion aggeravates your offence. LEMMY. Oh, ah! Look 'ere, it was a corked bottle. Now, tyke care, tyke care, 'aughty! Daon't curl yer lip! I shall myke a clean breast o' my betryal when the time comes! [There is a alight movement of the door. ANNE makes a dive towards the table but is arrested by POULDER grasping her waistband. LORD WILLIAM slips in, followed by THE PRESS, on whom JAMES and THOMAS close the door too soon.] HALF OF THE PRESS. [Indignantly] Look out! JAMES. Do you want him in or out, me Lord? LEMMY. I sy, you've divided the Press; 'e was unanimous. [The FOOTMEN let THE PRESS through.] LORD W. [To THE PRESS] I'm so sorry. LEMMY. Would yer like me to see to 'is gas? LORD W. So you're my friend of the cellars? LEMMY. [Uneasy] I daon't deny it. [POULDER begins removing LITTLE ANNE.] L. ANNE. Let me stay, Daddy; I haven't seen anything yet! If I go, I shall only have to come down again when they loot the house. Listen! [The hoarse strains of the Marseillaise are again heard from the distance.] LORD W. [Blandly] Take her up, Poulder! L. ANNE. Well, I'm coming down again--and next time I shan't have any clothes on, you know.