You're a dear, good
fellow, George--always have been. I wouldn't plague you only it is
absolutely necessary I should know--exactly what you did tell him.
NEWTE [a little sulkily]. I told him that your uncle was a bishop.
FANNY [sits back--staring at him]. A what?
NEWTE. A bishop. Bishop of Waiapu, New Zealand.
FANNY. Why New Zealand?
NEWTE. Why not? Had to be somewhere. Didn't want him Archbishop of
Canterbury, did you?
FANNY. Did he believe it?
NEWTE. Shouldn't have told him had there been any fear that he
wouldn't.
FANNY. I see. Any other swell relations of mine knocking about?
NEWTE. One--a judge of the Supreme Court in Ohio. Same name,
anyhow, O'Gorman. Thought I'd make him a cousin of yours. I've
always remembered him. Met him when I was over there in ninety-
eight--damn him!
A silence.
FANNY [she rises]. Well, nothing else for it! Got to tell him it
was all a pack of lies. Not blaming you, old boy--my fault. Didn't
know he was going to ask any questions, or I'd have told him myself.
Bit of bad luck, that's all.
NEWTE. Why must you tell him? Only upset him.
FANNY. It's either my telling him or leaving it for them to do. You
know me, George. How long do you see me being bossed and bullied by
my own servants? Besides, it's bound to come out in any case.
NEWTE [he rises. Kindly but firmly he puts her back into her chair.
Then pacing to and fro with his hands mostly in his trousers pockets,
he talks].
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