Old McB. What is it she’s saying?
Phil. What test, Mrs. Rooney?
Randal. Dear mother, name your test.
Catty. Let Honor McBride be summoned, and if she can prove she took no ring, and was not behind the chapel with Randal, nor drinking at Flaherty’s with him, the time she was, I give up all.
Randal. Agreed, with all the pleasure in life, mother. Oh, may I run for her?
Old McB. Not a fut, you sir—go, Phil dear.
Phil. That I will, like a lapwing, father.
Mr. Carv. Where to, sir—where so precipitate?
Phil. Only to fetch my sister.
Mr. Carv. Your sister, sir?—then you need not go far: your sister, Honor McBride, is, I have reason to believe, in this house.