Anyone who really
understood her character could see there was no harm in it. But youre
not the larky sort. At least you usent to be.
MARGARET. I'm not; and I never will be. [She walks straight up to
him]. I didnt do it for a lark, Bob: I did it out of the very
depths of my nature. I did it because I'm that sort of person. I did
it in one of my religious fits. I'm hardened at eighteen, as they
say. So what about the match, now?
BOBBY. Well, I dont think you can fairly hold me to it, Meg. Of
course it would be ridiculous for me to set up to be shocked, or
anything of that sort. I cant afford to throw stones at anybody; and
I dont pretend to. I can understand a lark; I can forgive a slip; as
long as it is understood that it is only a lark or a slip. But to go
on the loose on principle; to talk about religion in connection with
it; to--to--well, Meg, I do find that a bit thick, I must say. I hope
youre not in earnest when you talk that way.
MARGARET. Bobby: youre no good. No good to me, anyhow.
BOBBY. [huffed] I'm sorry, Miss Knox.
MARGARET. Goodbye, Mr Gilbey. [She turns on her heel and goes to
the other end of the table]. I suppose you wont introduce me to the
clergyman's daughter.
BOBBY. I dont think she'd like it. There are limits, after all.
[He sits down at the table, as if to to resume work at his books: a
hint to her to go].
MARGARET. [on her way to the door] Ring the bell, Bobby; and tell
Juggins to shew me out.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73