Right faces! [They all, except Quee, stand close together, and thrust their faces over one another's shoulders, with eyes closed. Running down the line, Quee washes all their right cheeks with one long sweep of his sponge.] Reverse! [cries Blick. They all turn and face in the opposite direction; and Quee, running up the line, washes all their other cheeks.] Right faces! [cries Blick. With a single sweep of his towel, Quee now dries all their right cheeks; and when Blick commands "Reverse," he dries the opposite sides in the same neat and speedy way. And the evening washing is finished.]
Blick. There! That's over for another twenty-four hours.
All. Thank goodness!
Blick. Oh come! It's quick and comparatively painless. Only—Quee gets dirtier and dirtier every year.
Flick. But somebody must do it.
