Spurrell (penitently). All I can say is, that—if I have—you won't catch me doing it again! And other people's things don't fit. I'd much rather have my own.
Lady Rhoda (relieved). Of course! But I'm glad you told me. (To Archie, in an undertone.) I asked him—and, as usual, you were utterly wrong. So you'll please not to be a pig!
Archie (jealously). And you're goin' to go on talkin' to him all through dinner? Pleasant for me—when I took you down!
Lady Rhoda. You want to be taken down yourself, I think. And I mean to talk to him if I choose. You can talk to Lady Culverin—she likes boys! (Turning to Spurrell.) I was goin' to ask you—ought a schipperke to have meat? Mine won't touch puppy biscuits.
[Spurrell enlightens her on this point; Archie glowers.
Lady Cantire (perceiving that the Bishop is showing signs of restiveness). Well, Bishop, I wish I could find you a little more ready to listen to what the other side has to say!
The Bishop (who has been "heckled" to the verge of his endurance.) I am—ah—not conscious of any unreadiness to enter into conversation with the very estimable lady on my other side, should an opportunity present itself.
Lady Cantire. Now, that's one of your quibbles, my dear Bishop, and I detest quibbling! But at least it shows you haven't a leg to stand upon.
The Bishop. Precisely—nor to—ah—run away upon, dear lady. I am wholly at your mercy, you perceive!
Lady Cantire (triumphantly). Then you admit you're beaten? Oh, I don't despair of you yet, Bishop.