Spurrell (nettled). I don't mind who knows. I'm not ashamed of it, Lady Maisie—whatever you may be!
Lady Maisie (to herself, exasperated). He dares to imply that I've done something to be ashamed of! (Aloud, haughtily.) I'm not ashamed—why should I be? Only—oh, can't you really understand that—that one may do things which one wouldn't care to be reminded of publicly? I don't wish it—isn't that enough?
Spurrell (to himself). I see what she's at now—doesn't want it to come out that she's travelled down here with a vet! (Aloud, stiffly.) A lady's wish is enough for me at any time. If you're sorry for having gone out of your way to be friendly, why, I'm not the person to take advantage of it. I hope I know how to behave.
[He takes refuge in offended silence.
Lady Maisie (to herself). Why did I say anything at all! I've only made things worse—I've let him see that he has an advantage. And he's certain to use it sooner or later—unless I am civil to him. I've offended him now—and I shall have to make it up with him!
Spurrell (to himself). I thought all along she didn't seem as chummy as her mother—but to turn round on me like this!
Lady Cantire (waking up). Well, Mr. Andromeda, I should have thought you and my daughter might have found some subject in common; but I haven't heard a word from either of you since we left the station.
Lady Maisie (to herself). That's some comfort! (Aloud.) You must have had a nap, mamma. We—we have been talking.
Spurrell. Oh yes, we have been talking, I can assure you, Lady Cantire!
Lady Cantire. Dear me. Well, Maisie, I hope the conversation was entertaining?