1st Shep.
Bad news, terrible bad news. The postman, he told me.
Loveday.
(Anxiously.) But tell us.
1st Shep.
Oh, Missy, how’ll ever Mister Gordon take it? Mr. Robert has been killed.
Loveday.
(Sinking back in chair.) Robert killed, oh! poor Gordon!
Varlie.
Sakes alive, that’s a knock out.