Margaret. He called to see you yesterday, while you were resting. I couldn't disturb you, of course—so I—
Sir J. (choking with rage) You saw him? You?
Margaret. And I told him—I was so proud!
Sir J. You told him! But it's not true!
Margaret. (staggering) What!!!
Sir J. (wild with excitement and fury) No—it's not true—it's none of it true! Oh, you—idiot!
Everard. (L. C. advancing, horror-stricken) Uncle! How dare you!
Sir J. (ignoring Everard and still glaring at Margaret) None of it true! All sham and humbug, you—wretched little idiot!
(He rushes off wildly R. 3 E., Margaret bursts into a torrent of hysterical sobs, and sinks on to the seat R. Everard is deeply moved—following Sir Joseph to R. and then impetuously to her.)
Everard. (R. C. deeply pained) Margaret! Don't cry! Don't!