Bertram is extremely annoyed.
“Run away, my good child. You see I am engaged.”
“When’ll you be round at our place?” repeats the little girl. “The pal as lodges over cousin Joe hev given us tickets for Hoxton Theayter, and Annie says as how she’d go if you wasn’t comin’ in this evenin’.”
“Run away, child,” repeats Bertram, imperiously. “Critchett!”
Critchett, who has returned, with a demure smile, guides the steps of the reluctant Bessy from the chamber.
“Why do you let these children in, Critchett?” asks Bertram, as the valet returns.
“I beg pardon, sir,” the servant says, humbly, as he lays the violets down on a cloisonné plate. “But you have told me, sir, that you are always at home for the Brown family.”
“You might surely have more judgment, after all your years of service!” replies his master. “There are exceptions to every rule.”
Marlow looks up to the ceiling in scandalised protest.
“Service! Service!” he repeats. “Hear him, ye gods! This is the rights of the individual; the independence of the unit; the perfect equality of one human being before another!”