TOPPING. [Sucking in his cheeks] Well, you see, Miss, it's like this:
Up to now Mr Builder's always had the respect of everybody—
MAUD moves her head impatiently.
outside his own house, of course. Well, now he hasn't got it. Pishchologically that's bound to touch him.
MAUD. Of course; but which way? Will he throw up the sponge, or try and stick it out here?
TOPPING. He won't throw up the sponge, Miss; more likely to squeeze it down the back of their necks.
MAUD. He'll be asked to resign, of course.
The NEWSPAPER BOY'S VOICE is heard again approaching: "First edition! Great sensation! Local magistrate before the Bench! Pay-per!"
Oh, dear! I wish I hadn't! But I couldn't see mother being—
TOPPING. Don't you fret, Miss; he'll come through. His jaw's above his brow, as you might say.
MAUD. What?