and goes to the child's chair beside the hearth, where he sits in
the deepest dejection. As she approaches the door, it opens and
Burgess enters. On seeing him, she ejaculates) Praise heaven,
here's somebody! (and sits down, reassured, at her table. She
puts a fresh sheet of paper into the typewriter as Burgess
crosses to Eugene.)

BURGESS (bent on taking care of the distingished visitor). Well:
so this is the way they leave you to yourself, Mr. Morchbanks.
I've come to keep you company. (Marchbanks looks up at him in
consternation, which is quite lost on him.) James is receivin' a
deppitation in the dinin' room; and Candy is hupstairs educatin'
of a young stitcher gurl she's hinterusted in. She's settin'
there learnin' her to read out of the "'Ev'nly Twins."
(Condolingly.) You must find it lonesome here with no one but the
typist to talk to. (He pulls round the easy chair above fire, and
sits down.)

PROSERPINE (highly incensed). He'll be all right now that he has
the advantage of YOUR polished conversation: that's one comfort,
anyhow. (She begins to typewrite with clattering asperity.)

BURGESS (amazed at her audacity). Hi was not addressin' myself to
you, young woman, that I'm awerr of.

PROSERPINE (tartly, to Marchbanks). Did you ever see worse
manners, Mr. Marchbanks?

BURGESS (with pompous severity). Mr. Morchbanks is a gentleman
and knows his place, which is more than some people do.