I think this is a perfectly heavenly place.
Drinkwater returns from the house with a chair.
DRINKWATER (placing the chair for Sir Howard). Awskink yr pawdn
for the libbety, Sr Ahrd.
SIR HOWARD (looking a him). I have seen you before somewhere.
DRINKWATER. You ev, Sr Ahrd. But aw do assure yer it were hall a
mistike.
SIR HOWARD. As usual. (He sits down.) Wrongfully convicted, of
course.
DRINKWATER (with sly delight). Naow, gavner. (Half whispering,
with an ineffable grin) Wrorngfully hacquittid!
SIR HOWARD. Indeed! That's the first case of the kind I have ever
met.
DRINKWATER. Lawd, Sr Ahrd, wot jagginses them jurymen was! You an
me knaowed it too, didn't we?
SIR HOWARD. I daresay we did. I am sorry to say I forget the
exact nature of the difficulty you were in. Can you refresh my
memory?
DRINKWATER. Owny the aw sperrits o youth, y' lawdship. Worterleoo
Rowd kice. Wot they calls Ooliganism.
SIR HOWARD. Oh! You were a Hooligan, were you?
LADY CICELY (puzzled). A Hooligan!
DRINKWATER (deprecatingly). Nime giv huz pore thortless leds baw
a gent on the Dily Chrornicle, lidy. (Rankin returns. Drinkwater
immediately withdraws, stopping the missionary for a moment near
the threshold to say, touching his forelock) Awll eng abaht
within ile, gavner, hin kice aw should be wornted. (He goes into
the house with soft steps.)
Lady Cicely sits down on the bench under the tamarisk.
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