Jeyes.
Grasping her wrist, fiercely. Lily——!
Lily.
Wrenching herself free. What! Losing control over herself utterly. You’ll spy on me, will you, you shabby loafer! You’ll peep at me while I’m eating my supper, and count the dances I choose to give that boy over there, will you! And then you’ll break into my house, and insult my friends behind their backs, and insinuate foul things against my poor old mother—you damned coward!—and against me, pointing to Farncombe and him! Why, you’re not fit to black his boots, and you never were—never—you—you—you scum! Here! Taking Farncombe’s note from her bosom and thrusting it at Jeyes. Read that! Sitting in the arm-chair by the centre table. Read it! Read it! Read it! Jeyes reads to himself. Out loud!
Jeyes.
Mumbling. “Dear Miss Parradell. Will you allow me——?”
Lily.
Louder!
Jeyes.
“Will you allow me to remain behind for a few minutes with Miss Jimmie after the others have gone? I know I am presuming a lot, but I cannot leave you till I have asked you the most important question a man can put to a woman. Farncombe.”