FAITH's look at him is like the look of a dog at her master.
JOHNNY. [From the background] I know you're a blackguard—I've seen your sort.
FAITH. [Firing up] Don't call him names! I won't have it. I'll go with whom I choose! [Her eyes suddenly fix themselves on the YOUNG MAN'S face] And I'm going with him!
COOK enters.
MR MARCH. What now, Cook?
COOK. A Mr Barnabas in the hall, sir. From the police.
Everybody starts. MRS MARCH drinks off her fifth little glass of brandy, then sits again.
MR MARCH. From the police?
He goes out, followed by COOK. A moment's suspense.
YOUNG M. Well, I can't wait any longer. I suppose we can go out the back way?