Fellows. [Apologetically] Mr. Hornblower, ma’am; by appointment, he says.
Mrs. H. Quite right, Fellows.
[Hornblower comes in, and fellows goes out.]
Hornblower. [Without salutation] I’ve come to ask ye point bleak what ye mean by writing me these letters. [He takes out two letters.] And we’ll discus it in the presence of nobody, if ye, please.
Mrs. H. Mr. Dawker knows all that I know, and more.
Hornblower. Does he? Very well! Your second note says that my daughter-in-law has lied to me. Well, I’ve brought her, and what ye’ve got to say—if it’s not just a trick to see me again—ye’ll say to her face. [He takes a step towards the window.]
Mrs. H. Mr. Hornblower, you had better, decide that after hearing what it is—we shall be quite ready to repeat it in her presence; but we want to do as little harm as possible.
Hornblower. [Stopping] Oh! ye do! Well, what lies have ye been hearin’? Or what have ye made up? You and Mr. Dawker? Of course ye know there’s a law of libel and slander. I’m, not the man to stop at that.
Mrs. H. [Calmly] Are you familiar with the law of divorce, Mr. Hornblower?
Hornblower. [Taken aback] No, I’m not. That is-----.
Mrs. H. Well, you know that misconduct is required. And I suppose you’ve heard that cases are arranged.
Hornblower. I know it’s all very shocking—what about it?
Mrs. H. When cases are arranged, Mr. Hornblower, the man who is to be divorced often visits an hotel with a strange woman. I am extremely sorry to say that your daughter-in-law, before her marriage, was in the habit of being employed as such a woman.
Hornblower. Ye dreadful creature!
Dawker. [Quickly] All proved, up to the hilt!
Hornblower. I don’t believe a word of it. Ye’re lyin’ to save your skins. How dare ye tell me such monstrosities? Dawker, I’ll have ye in a criminal court.
Dawker. Rats! You saw a gent with me yesterday? Well, he’s employed her.
Hornblower. A put-up job! Conspiracy!
Mrs. H. Go and get your daughter-in-law.
Hornblower. [With the first sensation of being in a net] It’s a foul shame—a lying slander!
Mrs. H. If so, it’s easily disproved. Go and fetch her.
Hornblower. [Seeing them unmoved] I will. I don’t believe a word of it.
Mrs. H. I hope you are right.
[Hornblower goes out by the French window, Dawker slips to the door Right, opens it, and speaks to those within. Mrs. Hillcrist stands moistening her lips, and passim her handkerchief over them. Hornblower returns, preceding Chloe, strung up to hardness and defiance.]
Hornblower. Now then, let’s have this impudent story torn to rags.