HILLCRIST. My dear, we can't all be uncommon. He's got lots of go, You must apologise to your mother.
JILL. [Shaking-her clubbed hair] They'll make you do things you don't approve of, Dodo, if you don't look out. Mother's fearfully bitter when she gets her knife in. If old Hornblower's disgusting, it's no reason we should be.
HILLCRIST. So you think I'm capable—that's nice, Jill!
JILL. No, no, darling! I only want to warn you solemnly that mother'll tell you you're fighting fair, no matter what she and Dawker do.
HILLCRIST. [Smiling] Jill, I don't think I ever saw you so serious.
JILL. No. Because—[She swallows a lump in her throat] Well—I was just beginning to enjoy, myself; and now—everything's going to be bitter and beastly, with mother in that mood. That horrible old man! Oh, Dodo! Don't let them make you horrid! You're such a darling. How's your gout, ducky?
HILLCRIST. Better; lot better.
JILL. There, you see! That shows! It's going to be half-interesting for you, but not for—us.
HILLCRIST. Look here, Jill—is there anything between you and young what's-his-name—Rolf?
JILL. [Biting her lip] No. But—now it's all spoiled.