sofa. Richard turns to the table.) Ah, Mr. Anderson, still at the
good work, still shepherding them. Keep them up to the mark,
minister, keep them up to the mark. Come! (with a spring he seats
himself on the table and takes up the decanter) clink a glass
with me, Pastor, for the sake of old times.

ANDERSON. You know, I think, Mr. Dudgeon, that I do not drink
before dinner.

RICHARD. You will, some day, Pastor: Uncle William used to drink
before breakfast. Come: it will give your sermons unction. (He
smells the wine and makes a wry face.) But do not begin on my
mother's company sherry. I stole some when I was six years old;
and I have been a temperate man ever since. (He puts the decanter
down and changes the subject.) So I hear you are married, Pastor,
and that your wife has a most ungodly allowance of good looks.

ANDERSON (quietly indicating Judith). Sir: you are in the
presence of my wife. (Judith rises and stands with stony
propriety.)

RICHARD (quickly slipping down from the table with instinctive
good manners). Your servant, madam: no offence. (He looks at her
earnestly.) You deserve your reputation; but I'm sorry to see by
your expression that you're a good woman.

(She looks shocked, and sits down amid a murmur of indignant
sympathy from his relatives. Anderson, sensible enough to know
that these demonstrations can only gratify and encourage a man
who is deliberately trying to provoke them, remains perfectly