lord john. [Shrugging.] Your father struck me.
ann. Now you've hurt him . . that's fair.
Then the two men do shake hands, not heartily.
george. We've trapped you, my lord.
lord john. I know what I want. I love your sister.
ann. I don't like you . . but if you're good and I'm good we shall get on.
george. Why shouldn't one marry politically?
lord john. [In ann's ear.] I love you.
ann. No . . no . . no . . no . . no . . [Discovering in this an echo of her father, she stops short.]