He lays his hand
on Newte's sleeve--with a smile]. I'm sure you can forgive a man--
with eyes and ears in his head--for having fallen in love with her.
NEWTE. Then why doesn't he stand by her? What if her uncle is a
butler? If he wasn't a fool, he'd be thanking his stars that 'twas
anything half as respectable.
DR. FREEMANTLE. I'm not defending him--we're not sure yet that he
needs any defence. He has married a clever, charming girl of--as you
say--a better family than he'd any right to expect. The misfortune
is, that--by a curious bit of ill-luck--it happens to be his own
butler.
NEWTE. If she takes my advice, she'll return to the stage. No sense
stopping where you're not wanted.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. But how can she?
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. You see, they're married!
DR. FREEMANTLE [to change the subject]. You'll take an egg?
Newte has been boiling some. He has just served them.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL [rejecting it]. Thank you.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. We're not feeling hungry.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. He was so fond of her.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. She was so pretty.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. And so thoughtful.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. One would never have known she was an
actress.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. If only she hadn't -
Bennet has entered. Newte is at fireplace. The old ladies have
their backs to the door. Dr. Freemantle, who is pouring out tea, is
the first to see him.
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