Claude.
Certainly.
Miss Hall.
I don’t think I want anything, thank you, Mrs. Insoley.
Mrs. Insoley.
Nonsense, Louisa! Allow me to know what is good for you. You’ll see that she drinks the port, Claude. [As they go out.] I want to talk to Archibald.
Archibald.
My dear mother, I throw myself at your feet.
Mrs. Insoley.
[With a chuckle.] I very much doubt if you could. You’re growing much too fat. It’s quite time they made you something.