Dean.
I might well put that question to you, Mrs. O’Farrel. But I refrain from vulgar tu quoque repartee. I have no more to say except to warn you that before looking after the morals of my daughter, you had far better look after those of your son.
Mrs. O’Farrel.
My son?
Dean.
Precisely—your son.
Mrs. O’Farrel.
What do you mean?
Dean.
I and others—unlike yourself, I will not drag in the names of outsiders—have for some time past watched your son and Lady Patricia with grief and dismay.