MARCUS. Look here, Simon, it’s rather queer that you want to see Mr. Manning. I should say Nancy would suit you better.
BESS. Nancy Nipper, to be sure: have you forgotten her?
SIMON. Oh——ah——yes——yes, I remember there was a young thing, rather smart, somewhat attractive, about here; but when one gets into “rings,” hob-nobbing with senators and nabobs, one forgets these (_snaps fingers_) these little trifles. Nancy? yes, yes.
MARCUS. Well, I’m rather glad to know that you are not in pursuit of her this time, for, between you and me, Nancy has a chance to make a good match now, with one who is dying for her.
SIMON (_excitedly_). You don’t mean it! Dying is he? I’ll finish him! After Nancy——my Nancy! Who is he?
MARCUS. Ha! ha! ha! he’s a man who’s got above trade, you know: a member of one of those mysterious rings, you understand. Ha! ha! ha! Si,——old fellow,——it won’t do: I can read you. You’re on the old trail. (_Comes to_ I. E. L.) Come, Bess.
BESS. Oblige me by making yourself comfortable, Mr. Stone. (_Crosses to_ MARCUS.)
MARCUS. Yes; and forget those (_snaps fingers_) little trifles. Ha! ha! ha! (BESS _and_ MARCUS _exit_ I. E. L.)
SIMON (_stands_ C. _looking after them_). Ha! ha! ha (_mockingly_)! I’m on the old trail, am I? Can’t pull wool over his eyes. He’s right. Nancy is the _dear_ I’m hunting: the Nipper that will satisfy my thirsty spirit. They do say money is one of the sinews of war, the strongest and the mightiest to win. If that’s so, I’m on my muscle. That’s a glorious old blaze. Simon, make yourself comfortable (_sits in arm chair_). She told me to, and when a pretty girl asks a favor, there’s nothing shabby about me. (_Sits before fire, warming his hands, chair with back to_ L. _Enter_ NANCY, L. I. E.)
NANCY. I declare, I’m mortified. To see that couple billing and cooing, and she a little thing, who’s only just left her dolls, a-going to be married, and I scrubbing along in single blessedness, because I hadn’t the sense to take Simon Stone when I had the chance. Plague take the fellow! no doubt he’s given me up, when if he had only stuck to it he might have seen (_crosses to fireplace_), with half an eye, I was dying to throw myself (_seizes back of_ SIMON’S _chair, whirls it round, and bounces into his lap, as she speaks this_) into his arms. (_Screams, jumps up, and runs_ L.) Mercy sakes! who’s that?