darker shades? [The Nervous Gentleman pokes in the box of socks.]
Philip—They are one krone fifty darker. Thorough Young Lady—I'd like something between the two. Philip—[Pulls down another box.] Between the two.
Oscar—[Deferentially.] Those are socks, sir.
Nervous Gentleman—I see they are.
Oscar—[Very deferentially.] Would you like to look at some, sir?
Nervous Gentleman—Yes.
Oscar—[Shows the pair he is holding in his hand.] Black. Fil d'Ecosse.
Thorough Young Lady—I'm afraid they are too expensive. Let me look at the first ones again. Nervous Gentleman—[Looks at his watch.] I'm afraid I can't wait.
Philip—One moment more, sir. Mr. Juhasz will be right in.
Nervous Gentleman—I know what your moments mean. [Picks up a sock.]
Oscar—[Ingratiatingly.] Mr. Juhasz will be right in, sir. Now here is an exceptionally fine stocking, sir. [Shows him the pair he has been holding.]
Nervous Gentleman—[Compares it with the
