You do hate it, don't you?
CRICHTON. It pains me, your ladyship. It disturbs the etiquette of
the servants' hall. After last month's meeting the pageboy, in a
burst of equality, called me Crichton. He was dismissed.
LADY MARY. I wonder--I really do--how you can remain with us.
CRICHTON. I should have felt compelled to give notice, my lady, if
the master had not had a seat in the Upper House. I cling to that.
LADY MARY. Do go on speaking. Tell me, what did Mr. Ernest mean by
saying he was not young enough to know everything?
CRICHTON. I have no idea, my lady.
LADY MARY. But you laughed.
CRICHTON. My lady, he is the second son of a peer.
LADY MARY. Very proper sentiments. You are a good soul, Crichton.
LORD BROCKLEHURST (desperately to TWEENY). And now tell me, have you
been to the Opera? What sort of weather have you been having in the
kitchen? (TWEENY gurgles.) For Heaven's sake, woman, be articulate.
CRICHTON (still talking to LADY MARY). No, my lady; his lordship may
compel us to be equal upstairs, but there will never be equality in
the servants' hall.
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