I beg yours.

Ablett.

[Grasping Arthur's hand.] Excuse the freedom, sir, if freedom you regard it as——

Arthur.

Eh——-?

-,

Ablett.

You 'ave plucked the flower, sir; you 'ave stole our ch'icest blossom.

Arthur.

[Trying to get away.] Yes, yes, I know——