Yes, my lord.
(ERNEST appears, mopping his hair, which has become very wet since
we last saw him. He is not bearing malice, he is too busy drying,
but AGATHA is specially his champion.)
AGATHA. It's infamous, infamous.
LORD LOAM: (strongly). My orders, Agatha.
LADY MARY. Now, father, please.
LORD LOAM (striking an attitude). Before I give you any further
orders, Crichton--
CRICHTON. Yes, my lord.
LORD LOAM. (delighted) Pooh! It's all right.
LADY MARY. No. Please go on.
LORD LOAM. Well, well. This question of the leadership; what do you
think now, Crichton?
CRICHTON. My lord, I feel it is a matter with which I have nothing
to do.
LORD LOAM. Excellent. Ha, Mary? That settles it, I think.
LADY MARY. It seems to, but--I'm not sure.
CRICHTON. It will settle itself naturally, my lord, without any
interference from us.
(The reference to nature gives general dissatisfaction.)
LADY MARY. Father.
LORD LOAM (a little severely). It settled itself long ago, Crichton,
when I was born a peer, and you, for instance, were born a servant.
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