approve of it, can you, Meg? I never
thought you were that sort of girl.

MARGARET. [rising indignantly] I'm not. You mustnt pretend to think that
_I_'m a clergyman's daughter, Bobby.

BOBBY. I wish you wouldnt chaff about that. Dont forget the row you got
into for letting out that you admired Juggins [she turns her back on him
quickly]--a footman! And what about the Frenchman?

MARGARET. [facing him again] I know nothing about the Frenchman except
that hes a very nice fellow and can swing his leg round like the hand of
a clock and knock a policeman down with it. He was in Wormwood Scrubbs
with you. I was in Holloway.

BOBBY. It's all very well to make light of it, Meg; but this is a bit
thick, you know.

MARGARET. Do you feel you couldnt marry a woman whos been in prison?

BOBBY. [hastily] No. I never said that. It might even give a woman a
greater claim on a man. Any girl, if she were thoughtless and a bit
on, perhaps, might get into a scrape. Anyone who really understood her
character could see there was no harm in it. But youre not the larky
sort. At least you usent to be.

MARGARET. I'm not; and I never will be. [She walks straight up to him].
I didnt do it for a lark, Bob: I did it out of the very depths of my
nature. I did it because I'm that sort of person. I did it in one of my
religious fits. I'm hardened at eighteen, as they say. So what about the
match, now?

BOBBY. Well, I dont think you can fairly hold me to it, Meg. Of course
it would be ridiculous for me to set up to be shocked, or anything of
that sort. I cant afford to throw stones at anybody; and I dont pretend
to. I can understand a lark; I can forgive a slip; as long as it is
understood that it is only a lark or a slip. But to go on the loose on
principle; to talk about religion in connection with it; to--to--well,
Meg, I do find that a bit thick, I must say. I hope youre not in earnest
when you talk that way.

MARGARET. Bobby: youre no good. No good to me, anyhow.

BOBBY. [huffed] I'm sorry, Miss Knox.

MARGARET. Goodbye, Mr Gilbey. [She turns on her heel and goes to
the other end of the table]. I suppose you wont introduce me to the
clergyman's daughter.

BOBBY. I dont think she'd like it. There are limits, after all. [He sits
down at the table, as if to to resume work at his books: a hint to her
to go].

MARGARET. [on her way to the door] Ring the bell, Bobby; and tell
Juggins to shew me out.

BOBBY. [reddening] I'm not a cad,