Anywhere, so long as hes out of the reach of you and your
like.
DORA. Then I'm afraid youll have to send him out of the world, old
dear. I'm sorry for you: I really am, though you mightnt believe it;
and I think your feelings do you real credit. But I cant give him up
just to let him fall into the hands of people I couldnt trust, can I?
GILBEY. [beside himself, rising] Wheres the police? Wheres the
Government? Wheres the Church? Wheres respectability and right
reason? Whats the good of them if I have to stand here and see you
put my son in your pocket as if he was a chattel slave, and you hardly
out of gaol as a common drunk and disorderly? Whats the world coming
to?
DORA. It is a lottery, isnt it, old dear?
_Mr Gilbey rushes from the room, distracted._
MRS GILBEY. [unruffled] Where did you buy that white lace? I want
some to match a collaret of my own; and I cant get it at Perry and
John's.
DORA. Knagg and Pantle's: one and fourpence. It's machine
hand-made.
MRS GILBEY. I never give more than one and tuppence. But I suppose
youre extravagant by nature. My sister Martha was just like that.
Pay anything she was asked.
DORA. Whats tuppence to you, Mrs Bobby, after all?
MRS GILBEY. [correcting her] Mrs Gilbey.
DORA. Of course, Mrs Gilbey. I am silly.
MRS GILBEY. Bobby must have looked funny in your hat. Why did you
change hats with him?
DORA. I dont know. One does, you know.
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