ng him, she
ejaculates) Praise heaven, here's somebody! (and sits down, reassured,
at her table. She puts a fresh sheet of paper into the typewriter as
Burgess crosses to Eugene.)

BURGESS (bent on taking care of the distinguished visitor). Well: so
this is the way they leave you to yourself, Mr. Morchbanks. I've come
to keep you company. (Marchbanks looks up at him in consternation,
which is quite lost on him.) James is receivin' a deppitation in the
dinin' room; and Candy is hupstairs educatin' of a young stitcher gurl
she's hinterusted in. She's settin' there learnin' her to read out of
the "'Ev'nly Twins." (Condolingly.) You must find it lonesome here with
no one but the typist to talk to. (He pulls round the easy chair above
fire, and sits down.)

PROSERPINE (highly incensed). He'll be all right now that he has the
advantage of YOUR polished conversation: that's one comfort, anyhow.
(She begins to typewrite with clattering asperity.)

BURGESS (amazed at her audacity). Hi was not addressin' myself to you,
young woman, that I'm awerr of.

PROSERPINE (tartly, to Marchbanks). Did you ever see worse manners, Mr.
Marchbanks?

BURGESS (with pompous severity). Mr. Morchbanks is a gentleman and
knows his place, which is more than some people do.

PROSERPINE (fretfully). It's well you and I are not ladies and
gentlemen: I'd talk to you pretty straight if Mr. Marchbanks wasn't
here. (She pulls the letter out of the machine so crossly that it
tears.) There, now I've spoiled this letter--have to be done all over
again. Oh, I can't contain myself--silly old fathead!

BURGESS (rising, breathless with indignation). Ho! I'm a silly ole
fathead, am I? Ho, indeed (gasping). Hall right, my gurl! Hall right.
You just wait till I tell that to your employer. You'll see. I'll teach
you: see if I don't.

PROSERPINE. I--

BURGESS (cutting her short). No, you've done it now. No huse a-talkin'
to me. I'll let you know who I am. (Proserpine shifts her paper
carriage with a defiant bang, and disdainfully goes on with her work.)
Don't you take no notice of her, Mr. Morchbanks. She's beneath it. (He
sits down again loftily.)

MARCHBANKS (miserably nervous and disconcerted). Hadn't we better
change the subject. I--I don't think Miss Garnett meant anything.

PROSERPINE (with intense conviction). Oh, didn't I though, just!

BURGESS. I wouldn't demean myself to take notice on her.

(An electric bell rings twice.)

PROSERPINE (gathe