MABEL. [With her hand to her forehead] Oh! Mr Twisden, when will it be over? My head's getting awful sitting in that Court.
TWISDEN. My dear Mrs Dancy, there's no need at all for you to come down to-morrow; take a rest and nurse your head.
MABEL. Really and truly?
TWISDEN. Yes; it's the very best thing you can do.
GRAVITER turns his head, and looks at them unobserved.
MABEL. How do you think it's going?
TWISDEN. It went very well to-day; very well indeed.
MABEL. You must be awfully fed up with us.
TWISDEN. My dear young lady, that's our business. [He takes her hand].
MABEL's face suddenly quivers. She draws her hand away, and covers her lips with it.