we have to consider now. If only we can keep it
dark, I don't care for anything else.

MARGARET. Dont hope for that, father. Mind: I'll tell everybody. It
ought to be told. It must be told.

KNOX. Hold your tongue, you young hussy; or go out of my house this
instant.

MARGARET. I'm quite ready. [She takes her hat and turns to the door].

KNOX. [throwing himself in front of it] Here! where are you going?

MRS KNOX. [rising] You mustnt turn her out, Jo! I'll go with her if she
goes.

KNOX. Who wants to turn her out? But is she going to ruin us? To let
everybody know of her disgrace and shame? To tear me down from the
position Ive made for myself and you by forty years hard struggling?

MARGARET. Yes: I'm going to tear it all down. It stands between us and
everything. I'll tell everybody.

KNOX. Magsy, my child: dont bring down your father's hairs with sorrow
to the grave. Theres only one thing I care about in the world: to keep
this dark. I'm your father. I ask you here on my knees--in the dust, so
to speak--not to let it out.

MARGARET. I'll tell everybody.

_Knox collapses in despair. Mrs Knox tries to pray and cannot. Margaret
stands inflexible._

ACT III

_Again in the Gilbeys' dining-room. Afternoon. The table is not laid: it
is draped in its ordinary cloth, with pen and ink, an exercise-book, and
school-books on it. Bobby Gilbey is in the arm-chair, crouching over
the fire, reading an illustrated paper. He is a pretty youth, of very
suburban gentility, strong and manly enough by nature, but untrained and
unsatisfactory, his parents having imagined that domestic restriction
is what they call "bringing up." He has learnt nothing from it except a
habit of evading it by deceit._

_He gets up to ring the bell; then resumes his crouch. Juggins answers
the bell._

BOBBY. Juggins.

JUGGINS. Sir?

BOBBY. [morosely sarcastic] Sir be blowed!

JUGGINS. [cheerfully] Not at all, sir.

BOBBY. I'm a gaol-bird: youre a respectable man.

JUGGINS. That doesnt matter, sir. Your father pays me to call you sir;
and as I take the money, I keep my part of the bargain.

BOBBY. Would you call me sir if you wernt paid to do it?

JUGGINS. No, sir.

BOBBY. Ive been talking to Dora about you.

JUGGINS. Indeed, sir?

BOBBY. Yes. Dora says your name cant be Juggins, and that you have the
manners of a gentleman. I always thought you hadnt any manners. Anyhow,
your manners are different from the manners of a g