soon have your coat-tails on it, John'; loud cries of 'Remove that
little old wifie,' in which she is forcibly ejected, and the
honourable gentleman resumes his seat in a torrent of admiring
applause.

[ALICK and DAVID waggle their proud heads.]

JOHN [tolerantly]. Maggie, Maggie.

MAGGIE. You're not angry with me, John?

JOHN. No, no.

MAGGIE. But you glowered.

JOHN. I was thinking of Sir Peregrine. Just because I beat him at the
poll he took a shabby revenge; he congratulated me in French, a
language I haven't taken the trouble to master.

MAGGIE [becoming a little taller]. Would it help you, John, if you
were to marry a woman that could speak French?

DAVID [quickly]. Not at all.

MAGGIE [gloriously]. Mon cher Jean, laissez-moi parler le francais,
voulez-vous un interprete?

JOHN. Hullo!

MAGGIE. Je suis la soeur francaise de mes deux freres ecossais.