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ing] Oh, no! Oh, no! Look! [The footmen stop and turn. There between the pillars, stands LITTLE AIDA with the trousers, her face brilliant With surprise.] JAMES. Good Lord! What's this? [Seeing L. ANNE, LITTLE AIDA approaches, fascinated, and the two children sniff at each other as it were like two little dogs walking round and round.] L. ANNE. [Suddenly] My name's Anne; what's yours? L. AIDA. Aida. L. ANNE. Are you lost? L. AIDA. Nao. L. ANNE. Are those trousers? L. AIDA. Yus. L. Arms. Whose? L. AIDA. Mrs. Lemmy's. L. ANNE. Does she wear them? [LITTLE AIDA smiles brilliantly.] L. AIDA. Nao. She sews 'em. L. ANNE. [Touching the trousers] They are hard. James's are much softer; aren't they, James? [JAMES deigns no reply] What shall we do? Would you like to see my bedroom? L. AIDA. [With a hop] Aoh, yus! JAMES. No. L. ANNE. Why not? JAMES. Have some sense of what's fittin'. L. ANNE. Why isn't it fittin'? [To LITTLE AIDA] Do you like me? L. AIDA. Yus-s. L. ANNE. So do I. Come on! [She takes LITTLE AIDA'S hand.] JAMES. [Between the pillars] Tommy, ketch 'em! [THOMAS retains them by the skirts.] L. ANNE. [Feigning indifference] All right, then! [To LITTLE AIDA] Have you ever seen a bomb? L. AIDA. Nao. L. ANNE. [Going to the table and lifting a corner of the cover] Look! L. AIDA. [Looking] What's it for? L. ANNE. To blow up this house. L. AIDA. I daon't fink! L. ANNE. Why not? L. AIDA. It's a beautiful big 'Ouse. L. ANNE. That's why. Isn't it, James? L. AIDA. You give the fing to me; I'll blow up our 'ouse--it's an ugly little 'ouse. L. ANNE [Struck] Let's all blow up our own; then we can start fair. Daddy would like that. L. AIDA. Yus. [Suddenly brilliant] I've 'ad a ride in a taxi, an' we're goin' 'ome in it agyne! L. ANNE. Were you sick? LITTLE AIDA. [Brilliant] Nao. L. ANNE I was; when I first went in one, but I was quite young then. James, could you get her a Peche Melba? There was one. JAMES. No. L. ANNE. Have you seen the revolution? L. AIDA. Wot's that? L. ANNE. It's made of people. L. AIDA. I've seen the corfin, it's myde o' wood. L. ANNE. Do you hate the rich? L. AIDA. [Ineffably] Nao. I hates the poor. L. ANNE. Why? L. AIDA. 'Cos they 'yn't got nuffin'. L. ANNE. I love the poor
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