(MARY ROSE again seeks her mother’s breast.)
MRS. MORLAND. Oh, James! Dearest, tell me what Simon has been saying to you; whisper it, my love.
(MARY ROSE whispers.)
Yes, I thought it was that.
MARY ROSE. I am frightened to tell Daddy.
MRS. MORLAND. James, you may as well be told bluntly; it isn’t your fiver that Simon wants, it is your daughter.
(MR. MORLAND is aghast, and MARY ROSE rushes into his arms to help him in this terrible hour.)
MARY ROSE (as the injured party). You will scold him, won’t you, Dad?
MR. MORLAND (vainly trying to push her from him). By—by—by the—by all that is horrible I’ll do more than scold him. The puppy, I’ll—I’ll——
MARY ROSE (entreating). Not more than scold him, Daddy—not more. Mary Rose couldn’t bear it if it was more.