Sir William.
[Turning to her.] Are you a relative?
Mrs. Mossop.
No, I am not a relative——!
Sir William.
Go. [She departs; he closes the door with the end of his stick. Facing Rose.] My mind is not commonly a wavering one, Miss Trelawny, but it has taken me some time—months—to decide upon calling on ye.
Rose.
Won't you sit down?
Sir William.
[After a pause of hesitation, sitting upon the dress-basket.] Ugh!