MARY. Then come over here, and make ourselves comfy.
[They go over to the settee: she plumps herself down, gathering her legs up into a little bunch. He seats himself beside her.]
Now! Tell me everything you know about the Bishop of Benares!
MANSON. What—Uncle Josh?
MARY. Ssh—ssh—ssh! That's naughty, you know! You heard what Uncle William said! . . . Do you think he'd very much mind if I called him Uncle Josh?
MANSON. You may take it from me, that you may call him whatever you like.
MARY. That's all very well; but you're not Uncle Joshua!
MANSON. No? . . .
MARY [hotly]. No, you're not!
MANSON. Well, since you're so certain . . .