MRS. H. Don't be foolish, Jill.
JILL. Look at the old brute! Dodo, hold my hand.
MRS. H. Make sure you've got a handkerchief, Jack.
HILLCRIST. I can't go beyond the six thousand; I shall have to raise every penny on mortgage as it is. The estate simply won't stand more, Amy.
[He feels in his breast pocket, and pulls up the edge of his handkerchief.]
JILL. Oh! Look! There's Miss Mullins, at the back; just come in. Isn't she a spidery old chip?
MRS. H. Come to gloat. Really, I think her not accepting your offer is disgusting. Her impartiality is all humbug.
HILLCRIST. Can't blame her for getting what she can—it's human nature. Phew! I used to feel like this before a 'viva voce'. Who's that next to Dawker?
JILL. What a fish!
MRS. H. [To herself] Ah! yes.