Sir Fletcher.
I have not been consulted, Harriet.
Mrs. Cloys.
I did not consider it necessary, Fletcher. There was a question whether the plan I had in view could be carried out.
Sir Fletcher.
Then you—you have constituted yourself a—a sort of—arbitrator——
Mrs. Cloys.
As you say, a sort of arbitratrix, I suppose.
Sir Fletcher Portwood.
The cloak of pedantry, Harriet, scarcely conceals your want of respect for your brother.