MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you
with the mace for it [she makes for the tower].
HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across
to the tower to cut her off] You shant.
MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though?
HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve
forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the
Bishop?
MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall
respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He
kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool.
HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's
acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my
knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of
you then?
MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the
fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies
to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself
between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker.
THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest.
Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest
chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her
consolingly on the shoulder.
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