JULIA (very coldly, and seating herself at table). Presently.
BART. (aside to ROYSTON). Well, what news?
ROYS. (aside). All right! At least, if it isn’t this one, it’ll be the other! One of the two!
BART. What do you mean by “the other?”
ROYS. The “little, harmless, insignificant school-girl,” you know!
BART. (aside). Confound the fellow!
ROYS. You first put the notion of marriage into my head, and I won’t leave this house a bachelor; I’ll marry somebody! I leave you together! You’ll plead my cause, won’t you?—and pitch it strong, won’t you? I shall be all anxiety to know the result—because if she won’t have me, I can fall back on the other. Don’t you see? (shaking BARTON’S hand, and runs out at C.).
BART. (aside, and looking at JULIA). To have to plead the cause of another, when, in spite of me, her presence will recall the past, painful, humiliating as it is!
JULIA (with indifference). Your friend has left you, Mr. Barton?