MABEL (who hates coarseness of any kind). How can you sneak about in
this way, Joanna? Have you no pride?

JOANNA (dashing away a tear). Please to address me as Mrs. Purdie,
madam. (She sees LOB.) Who is this man?

PURDIE. We don't know; and there is no waking him. You can try, if you
like.

(Failing to rouse him JOANNA makes a third at table. They are all a
little inconsequential, as if there were still some moon-shine in
their hair.)

JOANNA. You were saying something about the devotion of a lifetime;
please go on.

PURDIE (diffidently). I don't like to before you, Joanna.

JOANNA (becoming coarse again). Oh, don't mind me.

PURDIE (looking like a note of interrogation). I should certainly like
to say it.

MABEL (loftily). And I shall be proud to hear it.

PURDIE. I should have liked to spare you this, Joanna; you wouldn't
put your hands over your ears?

JOANNA (alas). No, sir.