HORNBLOWER. Oh! dear me, yes. They don't matter a row of gingerbread to the schemes I've got for betterin' this neighbourhood.
JILL. I had been standing up for you; now I won't.
HOUNBLOWER. Dear, dear! What'll become of me?
JILL. I won't say anything about the other thing because I think it's beneath, dignity to notice it. But to turn poor people out of their cottages is a shame.
HORNBLOWER. Hoity me!
ROLF. [Suddenly] You haven't been doing that, father?
CHARLES. Shut up, Rolf!
HORNBLOWER. [Turning on ROLF] Ha! Here's a league o' Youth! My young whipper-snapper, keep your mouth shut and leave it to your elders to know what's right.
[Under the weight of this rejoinder ROLF stands biting his lips. Then he throws his head up.]
ROLF. I hate it!