DORA.  Oh, everybody calls me Darling:  it’s a sort of name Ive got.  Darling Dora, you know.  Well, he says, “Darling, if you can get Holy Joe to sprint a hundred yards, I’ll stand you that squiffer with the gold keys.”

MRS GILBEY.  Does he call his tutor Holy Joe to his face [Gilbey clutches at his hair in his impatience].

DORA.  Well, what would he call him?  After all, Holy Joe is Holy Joe; and boys will be boys.

MRS GILBEY.  Whats a squiffer?

DORA.  Oh, of course:  excuse my vulgarity:  a concertina.  Theres one in a shop in Green Street, ivory inlaid, with gold keys and Russia leather bellows; and Bobby knew I hankered after it; but he couldnt afford it, poor lad, though I knew he just longed to give it to me.

GILBEY.  Maria:  if you keep interrupting with silly questions, I shall go out of my senses.  Heres the boy in gaol and me disgraced for ever; and all you care to know is what a squiffer is.

DORA.  Well, remember it has gold keys.  The man wouldnt take a penny less than 15 pounds for it.  It was a presentation one.

GILBEY. [shouting at her] Wheres my son?  Whats happened to my son?  Will you tell me that, and stop cackling about your squiffer?

DORA.  Oh, aint we impatient!  Well, it does you credit, old dear.  And you neednt fuss:  theres no disgrace.  Bobby behaved like a perfect gentleman.  Besides, it was all my fault.  I’ll own it:  I took too much champagne.  I was not what you might call drunk; but I was bright, and a little beyond myself; and—­I’ll confess it—­I wanted to shew off before Bobby, because he was a bit taken by a woman on the stage; and she was pretending to be game for anything.  You see youve brought Bobby up too strict; and when he gets loose theres no holding him.  He does enjoy life more than any lad I ever met.

GILBEY.  Never you mind how hes been brought up:  thats my business.  Tell me how hes been brought down:  thats yours.

MRS GILBEY.  Oh, dont be rude to the lady, Rob.

DORA.  I’m coming to it, old dear:  dont you be so headstrong.  Well, it was a beautiful moonlight night; and we couldnt get a cab on the nod; so we started to walk, very jolly, you know:  arm in arm, and dancing along, singing and all that.  When we came into Jamaica Square, there was a young copper on point duty at the corner.  I says to Bob:  “Dearie boy:  is it a bargain about the squiffer if I make Joe sprint for you?” “Anything you like, darling,” says he:  “I love you.”  I put on my best company manners and stepped up to the copper.  “If you please, sir,” says I, “can you direct me to Carrickmines Square?” I was so genteel, and talked so sweet, that he fell to it like a bird.  “I never heard of any such Square in these parts,” he says.  “Then,” says I, “what a very silly little officer you must be!”; and I gave his helmet a chuck behind that knocked it over his eyes, and did a bunk.