LORD LOAM (speaking as one man to another). We are quite ready, Crichton. (CRICHTON is distressed.)
LADY MARY (sarcastically). How Crichton enjoys it!
LORD LOAM (frowning). He is the only one who doesn’t; pitiful creature.
CRICHTON (shuddering under his lord’s displeasure). I can’t help being a Conservative, my lord.
LORD LOAM. Be a man, Crichton. You are the same flesh and blood as myself.
CRICHTON (in pain). Oh, my lord!
LORD LOAM (sharply). Show them in; and, by the way, they were not all here last time.
CRICHTON. All, my lord, except the merest trifles.
LORD LOAM. It must be every one. (Lowering.) And remember this, Crichton, for the time being you are my equal. (Testily.) I shall soon show you whether you are not my equal. Do as you are told.
(CRICHTON departs to obey, and his lordship is now a general. He has no pity for his daughters, and uses a terrible threat.)