The Chatty O.G. (nudging him).  How very distinctly you hear the dialogue, Sir, don’t you?

    [The Irritable Person, without removing the tubes, turns
    and glares at him savagely, without producing the slightest
    impression.

Another Ghostly Voice (very audibly).  The devil you are!

A Careful Mother.  MINNIE, put them down at once, do you hear?  I can’t have you listening to such language.

Minnie.  Why, it’s only at Manchester, Mother!

Ghostly Voices and Sounds (as they reach the Irritable Person).  “You cursed scoundrel!  So it was you who burstled the billiboom, was it?  Stand back, there, I’ll hork every gordle in his—!” (_...  Sounds of a scuffle ...  A loud female scream, and firing ..._) “What have you done?”

The Ch.  O.G. Have you any sort of idea what he has done, Sir?

    [To the Irritable Person.

The Irr.  P. No, Sir, and I’m not likely to have as long as—­

    [He listens with fierce determination.

First Ghostly Voice.  Stop!  Hear me—­I can explain everything!

Second Do.  Do. I will hear nothing, I tell you!

First Do.  Do. You shall—­you must!  Listen.  I am the only surviving mumble of your unshle groolier.

The Ch.  O.G. (as before).  I think it must be a Melodrama and not an Opera after all—­from the language!

An Innocent Matron (who is listening, with her eyes devoutly fixed on the Libretto of “The Mountebanks,” under the firm conviction that she is in direct communication with the Lyric Theatre.) I always understood The Mountebanks was a musical piece, my dear, didn’t you? and even as it is, they don’t seem to keep very close to the words, as far as I can follow!

Ghostly Voices (in the Irritable Person’s ear as before).  “Your wife?” “Yes, my wife, and the only woman in the world I ever loved!”

The Irr.  P. (pleased, to himself.) Come, now I’m getting accustomed to it, I can hear capitally!

The Voices.  Then why have you—?...I will tell you all.  Twenty-five years ago, when a shinder foodle in the Borjeezlers I—­

A Still Small Voice (in everybody’s ear).  TIME, PLEASE.

Everybody (dropping the tubes, startled.) Where did that come from?

The Com.  M. They’ve been and cut it off at the main—­just when it was getting interesting!

His Fiancee.  Well, I can’t say I made out much of the plot myself.

The Com.  M. I made out enough to cover a sixpence, anyhow.  You didn’t expect the telephone to explain it all to you goin’ along, and give you cawfee between the Acts, did you?