OSCAR—[_Feels them again._] Why, if I put these flimsy things on now
they’d be in holes before I got home.
JUHASZ—They don’t knit socks of steel wire, you know. [_The THOROUGH
YOUNG LADY enters._]
THOROUGH YOUNG LADY—Good morning. [_PHILIP, JUHASZ and OSCAR return
her greeting simultaneously. OSCAR, socks in hand, even bows and
smiles to her. She addresses OSCAR._] I’d like a dozen very fine men’s
handkerchiefs.
OSCAR—[_Sadly, pointing to PHILIP._] There, please.