The Dean.
The Dean.
Georgiana! I’m surprised at you.
[Sheba sits at the piano and plays a bright air softly—Darbey standing behind her—Salome and Tarver stand in the archway.
Georgiana.
[Slapping The Dean on the back.] Look here, Augustin, George Tidd will lend you that thousand for the poor, innocent old Spire.
The Dean.
[Taking her hand.] Oh, Georgiana!
Georgiana.
On one condition—that you’ll admit there’s no harm in our laughing at a Sporting Dean.