Robbed of what? Sure, there's nothing here for any one to rob! You never took such a thing into your head before.
[Dick goes to the door, and tries to fasten it.
MARGERY—(aside.)
For sartain, he's bewitched—or have they given him something to drink?—or, perhaps, he's ill. (Very affectionately, and laying her hand on his shoulder.) Are you not well, Dick, love? Will you go to bed, sweetheart?
DICK—(gruffly.)
No. Go to bed in the broad day!—the woman's cracked.
MARGERY—(whimpering.)
Oh, Dick, what in the world has come to you?
DICK.