Lady Twombley.
Our—own—vegetables. And years hence, pa, sometimes when I am sitting over my knitting, you’ll forget the past, and play your flute again, and be happy?
Sir Julian Twombley.
Katherine! [He takes his flute from his pocket and breaks it into pieces across his knee.] Never, never again, Katherine. [As he is leaving her.] One pang of remorse I can spare you, Katherine.
Lady Twombley.
Don’t!
Sir Julian Twombley.
You believe you have betrayed a solemn secret of the Government to that unprincipled money-lender.
Lady Twombley.
Of course.