RANKIN. So he told me. He was badly broat up, I am afraid. But he
is now a converted man.
LADY CICELY. Of course he is. His telling you so frankly proves
it. You know, really, Howard, all those poor people whom you try
are more sinned against than sinning. If you would only talk to
them in a friendly way instead of passing cruel sentences on
them, you would find them quite nice to you. (Indignantly) I
won't have this poor man trampled on merely because his mother
brought him up as a Hooligan. I am sure nobody could be nicer
than he was when he spoke to us.
SIR HOWARD. In short, we are to have an escort of Hooligans
commanded by a filibuster. Very well, very well. You will most
likely admire all their faces; and I have no doubt at all that
they will admire yours.
Drinkwater comes from the house with an Italian dressed in a much
worn suit of blue serge, a dilapidated Alpine hat, and boots
laced with scraps of twine. He remains near the door, whilst
Drinkwater comes forward between Sir Howard and Lady Cicely.
DRINKWATER. Yr honor's servant. (To the Italian) Mawtzow: is
lawdship Sr Ahrd Ellam. (Marzo touches his hat.) Er Lidyship Lidy
Winefleet. (Marzo touches his hat.) Hawtellian shipmite, lidy.
Hahr chef.
LADY CICELY (nodding affably to Marzo). Howdyedo? I love Italy.
What part of it were you born in?
DRINKWATER. Worn't bawn in Hitly at all, lidy. Bawn in Ettn Gawdn
(Hatton Garden).
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