HORNBLOWER. I don't believe a word of it. Ye're lyin' to save your skins. How dare ye tell me such monstrosities? Dawker, I'll have ye in a criminal court.
DAWKER. Rats! You saw a gent with me yesterday? Well, he's employed her.
HORNBLOWER. A put-up job! Conspiracy!
MRS. H. Go and get your daughter-in-law.
HORNBLOWER. [With the first sensation of being in a net] It's a foul shame—a lying slander!
MRS. H. If so, it's easily disproved. Go and fetch her.
HORNBLOWER. [Seeing them unmoved] I will. I don't believe a word of it.
MRS. H. I hope you are right.
[HORNBLOWER goes out by the French window, DAWKER slips to the door Right, opens it, and speaks to those within. MRS. HILLCRIST stands moistening her lips, and passim her handkerchief over them. HORNBLOWER returns, preceding CHLOE, strung up to hardness and defiance.]
HORNBLOWER. Now then, let's have this impudent story torn to rags.