Dressing gown! that's good--why I never put my own on nowadays!
BRUM. [_talking to himself_]. That screen mustn't go--nor the duchess's
armchair. [_Turning to_ NURSE.] Mind that, nurse, whatever happens to
me, this chair and the screen remain. Ha! ha! what would Ballarat say,
if----
NURSE. There, never mind them folks. Pull your coat off, and put your
dressing gown on, do!
BRUM. Dear me! I hope the ices will be better--the punch I've seen to!
The duchess shall sit here.
NURSE [_to_ OLD WOMAN]. That's how he goes on nearly every day. The high
folks he knew have turned his head. Sometimes he makes one of the
waiters announce a lot of folks, as never come, while he, like an old
fool, bows to nobody, and hands nothing to that old chair.
OLD W. What work it must give you.
NURSE [_to_ BRUMMELL]. There, take that muddy coat off, nobody's coming
to-day.
BRUM. Leave the room and see that everything is ready.
NURSE. Drat it. [_Rings the bell._] I must have the waiter up. He'll
soon manage him.
BRUM. [_rising, totters forward, and arranges his shabby dress_].
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