Algernon.
[Retreating to back of sofa.] But why does
she call herself little
Cecily if she is your aunt and lives at Tunbridge Wells? [Reading.] ‘From little
Cecily with her fondest love.’
Jack.
[Moving to sofa and kneeling upon it.] My dear fellow, what on earth
is there in that?
Some aunts are tall, some aunts are not tall. That is a
matter that surely an aunt may be allowed to decide for herself. You seem
to think that every aunt should be exactly like your aunt! That is absurd! For
Heaven’s sake give me back my cigarette case. [Follows
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