Thanks.
ERNEST. Mother pleased?
LORD BROCKLEHURST (with dignity). Mother is very pleased.
ERNEST. That's good. Do you go on the yacht with us?
LORD BROCKLEHURST. Sorry I can't. And look here, Ernest, I will not
be called Brocky.
ERNEST. Mother don't like it?
LORD BROCKLEHURST. She does not. (He leaves ERNEST, who forgives him
and begins to think about his speech. CRICHTON enters.)
LORD LOAM (speaking as one man to another). We are quite ready,
Crichton. (CRICHTON is distressed.)
LADY MARY (sarcastically). How Crichton enjoys it!
LORD LOAM (frowning). He is the only one who doesn't; pitiful
creature.
CRICHTON (shuddering under his lord's displeasure). I can't help
being a Conservative, my lord.
LORD LOAM. Be a man, Crichton. You are the same flesh and blood as
myself.
CRICHTON (in pain). Oh, my lord!
LORD LOAM (sharply). Show them in; and, by the way, they were not
all here last time.
CRICHTON. All, my lord, except the merest trifles.
LORD LOAM.
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