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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 853 pages of information about Complete Plays of John Galsworthy.

Jill. [Softly] Pitch, Dodo, pitch!

Mrs. H. [Furiously] Jill, be quiet!

Hillcrist. I was brought up never to hurt a woman.  I can’t do it,
Amy—­I can’t do it.  I should never feel like a gentleman again.

Mrs. H. [Coldly] Oh!  Very well.

Hillcrist. What d’you mean by that?

Mrs. H. I shall use the knowledge in my own way.

Hillcrist. [Staring at her] You would—­against my wishes?

Mrs. H. I consider it my duty.

Hillcrist. If I agree to Hornblower being told——­

Mrs. H. That’s all I want.

Hillcrist. It’s the utmost I’ll consent to, Amy; and don’t let’s have any humbug about its being, morally necessary.  We do it to save our skins.

Mrs. H. I don’t know what you mean by humbug?

Jill.  He means humbug; mother.

Hillcrist. It must stop at old Hornblower.  Do you quite understand?

Mrs. H. Quite.

Jill.  Will it stop?

Mrs. H. Jill, if you can’t keep your impertinence to yourself——­

Hillcrist. Jill, come with me.

     [He turns towards door, Back.]

Jill.  I’m sorry, mother.  Only it is a skin game, isn’t it?

Mrs. H. You pride yourself on plain speech, Jill.  I pride myself on plain thought.  You will thank me afterwards that I can see realities.  I know we are better people than these Hornblowers.  Here we are going to stay, and they—­are not.

Jill. [Looking at her with a sort of unwilling admiration] Mother, you’re wonderful!

Hillcrist. Jill!

Jill.  Coming, Dodo.

     [She turns and runs to the door.  They go out.]

     [Mrs. Hillcrist, with a long sigh, draws herself up, fine and
     proud.]

Mrs. H. Dawker! [He comes to her.]

[I shall send him a note to-night, and word it so that he will be bound to come and see us to-marrow morning.  Will you be in the study just before eleven o’clock, with this gentleman?]

Dawker. [Nodding] We’re going to wire for his partner.  I’ll bring him too.  Can’t make too sure.

     [She goes firmly up the steps and out.]

Dawker. [To the stranger, with a wink] The Squire’s squeamish—­too much of a gentleman.  But he don’t count.  The grey mare’s all right.  You wire to Henry.  I’m off to our solicitors.  We’ll make that old rhinoceros sell us back the Centry at a decent price.  These Hornblowers—­[Laying his finger on his nose] We’ve got ’em!

Curtain

SCENE II

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