[With a gasp.] Ah! stop a bit! no, I won't!
Quex.
What's the matter with you?
Sophy.
[Wildly.] Why, it's like selling Muriel! Just to get myself out of this, I'm simply handing her over to you! I won't do it! I won't! [She rushes to the bell-rope and tugs at it again and again.] She sha'n't marry you! she sha'n't! I've said she sha'n't, and she sha'n't! [Leaving the bell-rope and facing him fiercely.] Oh, let your precious Duchess go scot-free! After all, what does it matter who the woman is you've been sporting with, so that Miss Muriel is kept from falling into your clutches! Yes, I'll make short work of you, my lord. The ladies shall hear from my mouth of the lively half-hour I've spent with you, and how I've suddenly funked the consequences and raised a hullabaloo! Now, my lord! now then! now then!
[His astonishment has given way to admiration; he gazes at her as if spell-bound.
Quex.
[After a pause, during which she stands before him panting.] By God, you're a fine plucked 'un! I've never known a better. [Resolutely.] No, my girl, I'm damned if you shall suffer! Quick! listen! pull yourself together!
Sophy.
[Hysterically.] Eh? eh?