Gertie.

You can’t do anything; you’re more helpless than a child of six. You’re all the same, all of you.

Norah.

You’re not going to abuse the whole British nation because I’ve broken a cup worth twopence, are you?

Gertie.

And the airs you put on. Condescending isn’t the word. It’s enough to try the patience of a saint.

Marsh.

Oh, shut up.

Gertie.

You’ve never done a stroke of work in your life, and you come here and think you can teach me everything.