Lady M. I'm grievously misinformed if you're not a self-confessed Socialist.
Mar. You spoke of loose morality.
Lady M. (curtly). Same thing. Do you admit to publicly advocating Socialism?
Mar. Certainly. You publicly advocate Tariff Reform. Why shouldn't I advocate Socialism?
Lady M. The cases are hardly parallel. The one is respectable, the other isn't. However, you're not here to argue with me. You have to earn your living. An orphan, I understand.
Mar. Yes.
Lady M. You've the more reason to walk warily. (Kindly.) Now, you're young, and you're ignorant, and I'm ready to overlook this. I could have you dismissed at once, but I've no doubt you'll be a good girl after this little talk. Good night, Miss Shawcross.
Mar. Good night, Lady Mottram. (She moves towards door. Freddie opens it, she turns back.) No, I won't go like this. You'd have the right to tell me I deceived you. (Freddie closes door and stands centre.) I can't take your warning, Lady Mottram. (Lady M. rises.) I dare say it's kindly meant. I thank you for that. But as for stopping speaking, working heart and soul for the cause that's all in all to me, I can't do that.
Lady M. Can't? Won't, you mean. This is defiance, Miss Shawcross. You'd better take care.
Mar. (splendidly contemptuous). Care! Life isn't all taking care.