She was an angel, and you shall not have them—
Hough, hough—at least until I’ve sorted them.
(She slaps him.)
Icelin.Sort that then!
Dansberg. Icelin.Sort that then!Someone strikes me.
Icelin. Dansberg. Icelin.Sort that then!Someone strikes me.That, again!
Dansberg.Someone has struck me! Shame!—a poor old man!
Icelin.Let your cheeks burn for it then.
Dansberg. Icelin.Let your cheeks burn for it then.You struck me, sir.
You cowardly dog.