Annie. [Looking at one] Yes, sir.

Topping.  Let’s see. [He examines the drawing] Mrs Herringhame, you said?

Annie.  Oh! yes, Sir.

Topping.  Wot oh!

Annie.  Did you want anything, sir?

Topping.  Drop the “sir,” my dear; I’m the Builders’ man. 
Mr Herringhame in?

Annie.  Oh! no, Sir.

Topping.  Take a message.  I can’t wait.  From Miss Maud Builder.  “Look out!  Father is coming.”  Now, whichever of ’em comes in first—­that’s the message, and don’t you forget it.

Annie.  Oh! no, Sir.

Topping.  So they’re married?

Annie.  Oh!  I don’t know, sir.

Topping.  I see.  Well, it ain’t known to Builder, J.P., either.  That’s why there’s a message.  See?

Annie.  Oh! yes, Sir.

Topping.  Keep your head.  I must hop it.  From Miss Maud Builder. 
“Look out!  Father is coming.”

     He nods, turns and goes, pulling the door to behind him.  Annie
     stands “baff” for a moment.

Annie.  Ah!

She goes across to the bedroom on the Right, and soon returns with a suit of pyjamas, a toothbrush, a pair of slippers and a case of razors, which she puts on the table, and disappears into the kitchen.  She reappears with a bread pan, which she deposits in the centre of the room; then crosses again to the bedroom, and once more reappears with a clothes brush, two hair brushes, and a Norfolk jacket.  As she stuffs all these into the bread pan and bears it back into the kitchen, there is the sound of a car driving up and stopping.  Annie reappears at the kitchen door just as the knocker sounds.

Annie.  Vexin’ and provokin’! [Knocker again.  She opens the door] Oh!

     Mr and Mrs builder enter.

Builder.  Mr and Mrs Builder.  My daughter in?

Annie. [Confounded] Oh!  Sir, no, sir.

Builder.  My good girl, not “Oh!  Sir, no, sir.”  Simply:  No, Sir.  See?

Annie.  Oh!  Sir, yes, Sir.

Builder.  Where is she?

Annie.  Oh!  Sir, I don’t know, Sir.

Builder. [Fixing her as though he suspected her of banter] Will she be back soon?

Annie.  No, Sir.

Builder.  How do you know?

Annie.  I d—­don’t, sir.

Builder.  They why do you say so? [About to mutter “She’s an idiot!” he looks at her blushing face and panting figure, pats her on the shoulder and says] Never mind; don’t be nervous.

Annie.  Oh! yes, sir.  Is that all, please, sir?

Mrs builder. [With a side look at her husband and a faint smile] Yes; you can go.