[Miss STOKES appears from the hall, between the pillars.]
Miss S. Poulder!
POULDER. [Making a volte face towards the table] Miss?
MISS S. Where is Anne?
POULDER. [Vexed at the disturbance of his speech] Excuse me, Miss— to keep track of Miss Anne is fortunately no part of my dooties.
[Miss S. She really is naughty.]
POULDER. She is. If she was mine, I'd spank her.
[The smiling face of LITTLE ANNE becomes visible again close to his legs.]
MISS S. Not a nice word.
POULDER. No; but a pleasant haction. Miss Anne's the limit. In fact, Lord and Lady William are much too kind 'earted all round. Take these sweated workers; that class o' people are quite 'opeless. Treatin' them as your equals, shakin 'ands with 'em, givin 'em tea— it only puffs 'em out. Leave it to the Church, I say.