Very good, sir.
[He goes out. Mrs. Dot comes in. At the sight of her Blenkinsop at once cools down.
Mrs. Dot.
James, dear, did I hear you give orders for your things to be packed up?
Blenkinsop.
[Calmly.] No, my love. What could have put such an idea in your head?
Mrs. Dot.
You wouldn’t leave me—darling?
Blenkinsop.
My angel, nothing now shall tear me from your side.