ANGELA: Well, think how you'd feel if you were and I were your own little girl and a wicked man was ill-treating me, etc. (She finally touches the mother vein in MISS CAREY.)
MISS CAREY: (Affected.) Go into my room, dear. (She leads her up
to bed behind curtains. After Angela disappears behind curtains,
MISS CAREY turns—facing HARRY.) I'll settle with this viper.
(Coming down.) Aren't you ashamed of yourself?
HARRY: Why should I'be ashamed?
MISS CAREY: (Resolutely.) Because you're a lollard.
HARRY: I'm what?
MISS CAREY: You're one of those vile creatures whose hair grows from east to west. (Dramatically.) Where are your refined feet now? )
HARRY: (Thinking she's mad.) What on earth are you talking about?
MISS CAREY: The man she fell in love with and married was spick and span—his shoulders were big and broad—his teeth were white—and his skin—well, if he were standing before me now, I'd be just crazy to kiss him myself.
HARRY: I was all that you say when I married her—that's how I won her.
MISS CAREY: And now you're not all that I say—that's how you lost her. You can't blame a little woman if she thinks she's getting a man of gold and she finds she's got a gold brick.