'
LORD BROCKLEHURST. Why?
LADY BROCKLEHURST. Because that is usually the beginning of a lie.
LORD BROCKLEHURST (as CRICHTON opens the door). Mother, you can't do
these things in other people's houses.
LADY BROCKLEHURST (coolly, to CRICHTON). It was I who rang.
(Surveying him through her eyeglass.) So you were one of the
castaways, Crichton?
CRICHTON. Yes, my lady.
LADY BROCKLEHURST. Delightful book Mr. Woolley has written about
your adventures. (CRICHTON bows.) Don't you think so?
CRICHTON. I have not read it, my lady.
LADY BROCKLEHURST. Odd that they should not have presented you with
a copy.
LORD BROCKLEHURST. Presumably Crichton is no reader.
LADY BROCKLEHURST. By the way, Crichton, were there any books on the
island?
CRICHTON. I had one, my lady--Henley's poems.
LORD BROCKLEHURST. Never heard of him.
(CRICHTON again bows.)
LADY BROCKLEHURST (who has not heard of him either). I think you
were not the only servant wrecked?
CRICHTON. There was a young woman, my lady.
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