Engstrand. Was the poor girl to go and increase her load of shame
by talking about it? Just suppose, sir, for a moment that your
reverence was in the same predicament as my poor Joanna.

Manders. I!

Engstrand. Good Lord, sir, I don't mean the same predicament. I
mean, suppose there were something your reverence was ashamed of
in the eyes of the world, so to speak. We men ought not judge a
poor woman too hardly, Mr. Manders.

Manders. But I am not doing so at all. It is you I am blaming.

Engstrand. Will your reverence grant me leave to ask you a small
question?

Manders. Ask away.

Engstrand. Shouldn't you say it was right for a man to raise up
the fallen?

Manders. Of course it is.

Engstrand. And isn't a man bound to keep his word of honour?

Manders. Certainly he is; but--

Engstrand. At the time when Joanna had her misfortune with this
Englishman--or maybe he was an American or a Russian, as they
call 'em--well, sir, then she came to town. Poor thing, she had