Spread myself! Why should I?
Roper.
Lord Farncombe!
Mrs. Upjohn.
I treat ’em all alike; so does Lil. ’E’s not the first title we’ve ’ad ’ere, not by a dozen.
Roper.
No, but damn it all—! I beg your pardon——
Mrs. Upjohn.
Beaming. So you ought—swearin’ like a trooper.
Roper.