aught you, have I? Making signals to the bobby.
I'll signal him! (Puts finger to his nose at window.)

TILLY. Oh! You impudent young rascal, how dare you insult
a full-grown man; you without so much, as an 'air to your
upper lip.

DIBBS. I'd rather have no mustarchers than a couple of
blacking brushes under my ears! He's gone now! You'd better
look on _me_ with an eye of admiration.

TILLY. You! You bare-faced brat! Smoking, too! Won't you
be ill, that's all.

DIBBS. Pooh! I've been a smoker ever since I was a boy!
(MR. SELWYN'S voice heard outside calling DIBBS.) Hullo! the
old rooster's up early! (Voice, "DIBBS!")

TILLY. I shall be off, he's sure to be out of temper;
masters and missuses are always grumpy when they first get
up. (DIBBS kisses TILLY, who slaps him. Exit, L. U. E.)

SEL. (heard off). Dibbs, _are_ you coming?

DIBBS. Yessir! (He endeavors to extinguish lighted cigar by
blowing on it, then opens window and fans the air with feather
brush to get rid of smoke.)

Enter SELWYN, looking very seedy, R. 3 E., in dressing-gown
and carrying a tall hat in his hand which he holds behind
him. He has an "up-all-night" appearance.

SEL. What the deuce are you doing?

DIBBS. Dusting, sir! (He hides cigar in trousers' pocket.)

SEL. Do you generally dust _the air_?

DIBBS. Dust everything, sir. (Aside.) Dash that cigar! It
ain't out! (He pulls it secretly from trousers' pocket and
again endeavors to extinguish it.)

SEL. Is Mr. Bellamy about yet?

DIBBS. Not yet, sir.

SEL. Go and call him; say I want to speak to him at once.

DIBBS. Yessir! (Returning.) As a rule he ain't partial to
being called before eleven, sir!

SEL. Rubbish! I always encourage early rising! _When I am
up first myself!_

DIBBS (aside). The boss is in a bad temper, perhaps he's
had the nightmare! (DIBBS knocks at door, L. 2 E. Sleepy voice
replies, "What the devil do you want?")

(Exit DIBBS, L. 2 E. entrance.

SEL. Not a moment is to be lost! My wife will be home by
the first train and if she catches sight of this infernal tile
she'll ask questions. That's the worst of wives, they _will_
be so inquisitive! Damocles had a sword hanging over his
head, I have a hat! (Putting hat on secretaire.) Now to write
to its owner. (Sitting at table.) "Sir, pardon my hastiness
last evening"----

DIBBS (entering, L.). Mr. Bellamy's coming, sir.

SEL.