MAYOR. Put a book on the chair, 'Arris; I like to sit 'igh.
HARRIS puts a volume of Eneyclopaedia on the Mayor's chair behind
the bureau.
[Deeply] Our fellow-magistrate! A family man! In my shoes next year.
I suppose he won't be, now. You can't keep these things dark.
HARRIS. I've warned Martin, sir, to use the utmost discretion. Here's
Mr Chantrey.
By the door Left, a pleasant and comely gentleman has entered,
dressed with indefinable rightness in shooting clothes.
MAYOR. Ah, Chantrey!
CHANTREY. How de do, Mr Mayor? [Nodding to HARRIS] This is extraordinarily unpleasant.
The MAYOR nods.
What on earth's he been doing?
HARRIS. Assaulting one of his own daughters with a stick; and resisting the police.