me?

MRS WARREN. You!

CROFTS. We three could live together quite comfortably. I'd die before
her and leave her a bouncing widow with plenty of money. Why not? It's
been growing in my mind all the time I've been walking with that fool
inside there.

MRS WARREN [revolted] Yes; it's the sort of thing that _would_ grow in
your mind.

[He halts in his prowling; and the two look at one another, she
steadfastly, with a sort of awe behind her contemptuous disgust: he
stealthily, with a carnal gleam in his eye and a loose grin.]

CROFTS [suddenly becoming anxious and urgent as he sees no sign of
sympathy in her] Look here, Kitty: youre a sensible woman: you needn't
put on any moral airs. I'll ask no more questions; and you need answer
none. I'll settle the whole property on her; and if you want a checque
for yourself on the wedding day, you can name any figure you like--in
reason.

MRS WARREN. So it's come to that with you, George, like all the other
worn-out old creatures!

CROFTS [savagely] Damn you!

[Before she can retort the door of the kitchen is opened; and the
voices of the others are heard returning. Crofts, unable to recover his
presence of mind, hurries out of the cottage. The clergyman appears at
the kitchen door.]

REV. S. [looking round] Where is Sir George?

MRS WARREN. Gone out to have a pipe. [The clergyman takes his hat from
the table, and joins Mrs Warren at the fireside. Meanwhile, Vivie comes
in, followed by Frank, who collapses into the nearest chair with an air
of extreme exhaustion. Mrs Warren looks round at Vivie and says, with
her affectation of maternal patronage even more forced than usual] Well,
dearie: have you had a good supper?

VIVIE. You know what Mrs Alison's suppers are. [She turns to Frank and
pets him] Poor Frank! was all the beef gone? did it get nothing but
bread and cheese and ginger beer? [Seriously, as if she had done quite
enough trifling for one evening] Her butter is really awful. I must get
some down from the stores.

FRANK. Do, in Heaven's name!

[Vivie goes to the writing-table and makes a memorandum to order the
butter. Praed comes in from the kitchen, putting up his handkerchief,
which he has been using as a napkin.]

REV. S. Frank, my boy: it is time for us to be thinking of home.

Your mother does not know yet that we have visitors.

PRAED. I'm afraid we're giving trouble.

FRANK [rising] Not the least in the world: my mother will be delighted
to see y