RANKIN (throwing up his hands). Five dollars! 'Tis easy to see you are not Scotch, my leddy.
LADY CICELY. Oh, poor things, they must want it more than we do; and you know, Howard, that Mahometans never spend money in drink.
RANKIN. Excuse me a moment, my leddy. I have a word in season to say to that same Moor. (He goes into the house.)
LADY CICELY (walking about the garden, looking at the view and at the flowers). I think this is a perfectly heavenly place.
Drinkwater returns from the house with a chair.
DRINKWATER (placing the chair for Sir Howard). Awskink yr pawdn for the libbety, Sr Ahrd.
SIR HOWARD (looking a him). I have seen you before somewhere.
DRINKWATER. You ev, Sr Ahrd. But aw do assure yer it were hall a mistike.
SIR HOWARD. As usual. (He sits down.) Wrongfully convicted, of course.
DRINKWATER (with sly delight). Naow, gavner. (Half whispering, with an ineffable grin) Wrorngfully hacquittid!