LORD LOAM (violently). Crichton, you will either this moment say, ‘Down with nature,’.
CRICHTON (scandalised). My Lord!
LORD LOAM (loftily). Then this is my last word to you; take a month’s notice.
(If the hut had a door he would now shut it to indicate that the interview is closed.)
CRICHTON (in great distress). Your lordship, the disgrace—
LORD LOAM (swelling). Not another word: you may go.
LADY MARY (adamant). And don’t come to me, Crichton, for a character.
ERNEST (whose immersion has cleared his brain). Aren’t you all forgetting that this is an island?
(This brings them to earth with a bump. LORD LOAM looks to his eldest daughter for the fitting response.)
LADY MARY (equal to the occasion). It makes only this difference—that you may go at once, Crichton, to some other part of the island.