Then why bestow a second thought upon your beginnings?

SOPHY.

No, I suppose I oughtn't to. Nobody can breathe a word against my
respectability. All the same, I am quite aware that it mightn't be over
pleasant for a gentleman to remember that his wife was once--[_sitting
in the screen-chair_] well, a servant.

POLLITT.

[_By her chair._] It would not weigh on my mind if you had been
kitchen-maid [_pointing out of the window_] at Fletcher's Hotel.
[_Looking about him._] It's this business I don't care for.

SOPHY.

This business!

POLLITT.

For _you_. If you did no more than glide about your rooms,
superintending your young ladies! [_Sitting, facing her._] But I hate
the idea of your sitting here, or there, holding some man's hand in
yours!

SOPHY.

[_Suddenly ablaze._] Do you! [_Pointing out of the window._] Yet you sit
there, day after day, and hold women's hands in yours!