[_Mrs. Mossop draws the curtains, hiding the bed from view. Avonia
enters by the door on the right in a morning wrapper which has seen
its best days. She carries a pair of curling-tongs, and her hair is
evidently in process of being dressed in ringlets._]
_Avonia._
Of course she is; I forgot. There's a call for _The Peddler of
Marseilles_. Thank Gawd, _I'm_ not in it. [_Singing._] "I'm a great
guerrilla chief, I'm a robber and a thief, I can either kill a foe or
prig a pocket-handkerchief----"
_Mrs. Mossop._
[_Dusting the ornaments on the mantelpiece._] Bless your heart, you're
very gay this morning!
_Avonia._
It's the pantomime. I'm always stark mad as the pantomime approaches. I
don't grudge letting the rest of the company have their fling at other
times--but with the panto comes _my_ turn. [_Throwing herself full
length upon the sofa gleefully._]Ha, ha, ha! the turn of Avonia Bunn!
[__With a change of tone.__] I hope Miss Trelawny won't take a walk up
to Highbury, or anywhere, after rehearsal. I want to borrow her gilt
belt. My dress has arrived.
_Mrs. Mossop._
[_Much interested._] No! has it?
_Avonia._
Yes, Mrs. Burroughs is coming down from the theatre at twelve-thirty to
see me in it. [_Singing. "Any kind of villainy cometh natural to me. So
it endeth with a combat and a one, two, three----!"_] *
_Mrs. Mossop._
[_Surveying the room._] Well, that's as cheerful as I can make things
look, poor dear!
* These snatches of song are from "The Miller and His Men," a burlesque
mealy-drama, by Francis Talfourd and Henry J. Byron, produced at the
Strand Theatre, April 9, 1860.
_Avonia._
[_Taking a look round, seriously._] It's pretty bright--if it wasn't for
the idea of Rose Trelawny having to economize!
_Mrs. Mossop._