BLUNT (surprised). Her?
JESSIE. Yes. M—Martha!
BLUNT. What! me and master fall out about a petticoat? Ha! ha! Not we! I suppose I had offended him somehow or other, and he got into one of his “little pets,” and—struck me—not with his hand, ma’am. It nearly broke my heart. He saw it, and, like a true gentleman as he is, he asks me, with almost tears in his eyes, to give him a good hiding, and we sets at it at once then and there; and that’s all about it, ma’am.
MRS. T. (suddenly). Take that luggage away. Not a word. Remember, I am commanding officer here! (BLUNT makes a salute). In the mean time I’ll see your master.
JESSIE. Yes, we’ll see your master.
BLUNT. Do please, ladies; and if you’d only try just to cheer him up a bit.
JESSIE (eagerly). Is he unhappy, then?
BLUNT. All I know is, as he was ramming his things into his portmanteau with his fists—this sort of thing (imitating).—I saw a great big one hanging to the tip of his nose.
JESSIE. A great big what? Not a tear?