WHITWELL (_shouts_). A delicious dish, Mr. Coddle,--my favorite.
CODDLE (_shouts_). Yes? (_Puts partridge on his own plate._) Jane can't
boil spinach. I hate spinach. (_Helps WHITWELL to the spinach._)
WHITWELL (_rises_). I can't stand this. This is a little too much!
CODDLE (_shouts_). Nothing more? Good! (_Drops voice._) Get rid of you
all the sooner.--Jane, cigars. Give me a Havana; hand Mr. Whittermat a
stogy. (_Crosses to R._)
WHITWELL (_aside, furious_). How much longer shall I stand this?
JANE (_aside to WHITWELL_). Hush! He don't know you hear him. Don't
upset your fish-kittle.
WHITWELL (_aside_). Very well. I'd like to drop him into it.
JANE. Hoity, toity! Now see me. We'll have a little fun with the old
sheep.
CODDLE. Jane, where are those cigars?
JANE (_takes box from console, and offers it; shouts_). Here they be.
(_Drops voice._) Jackass! tyrant! muttonhead! I hope they'll turn your
stomick.
CODDLE (_seizes her ear_). What? You infamous minx! I a jackass? I a
tyrant? I a muttonhead? (_Pulls her round._) I'm a sheep, am I? I'm a
mollycoddle, am I? You call me an idiot, do you?
JANE (_screams_). Ah! he hears, he hears.
CODDLE. You'll have a little fun out of the old sheep, will you? You
tell me to shut up, eh? Clap me into an asylum, will you? (_Lets go her
ear._)