Over me! How do you mean, my boy?
MEGAN. [With a look up.] To tork!
[WELLWYN, turning to the picture, makes a funny little noise.]
BERTLEY. [Maintaining his good humour.] A hit! But you forget,
you know, to talk's my business. It's not yours to gamble.
MEGAN. You try sellin' flowers. If that ain't a--gamble
BERTLEY. I'm afraid we're wandering a little from the point.
Husband and wife should be together. You were brought up to that.
Your father and mother----
MEGAN. Never was.
WELLWYN. [Turning from the picture.] The question is, Megan: Will
you take your wife home? She's a good little soul.
MEGAN. She never let me know it.
[There is a feeble knock on the door.]
WELLWYN. Well, now come. Here she is!
[He points to the door, and stands regarding MEGAN with his
friendly smile.]
MEGAN. [With a gleam of responsiveness.] I might, perhaps, to
please you, sir.
BERTLEY. [Appropriating the gesture.] Capital, I thought we should
get on in time.
MEGAN. Yus.
[WELLWYN opens the door. MRS. MEGAN and FERRAND are revealed.
They are about to enter, but catching sight of MEGAN,
hesitate.
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