Mrs George.  We have no use for you, young man:  neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door].

Hotchkiss [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have.  George cant fight for you:  I can.

Mrs George [turning to face him] You bully.  You low bully.

Hotchkiss.  You have courage and fascination:  I have courage and a pair of fists.  We’re both bullies, Polly.

Mrs George.  You have a mischievous tongue.  Thats enough to keep you out of my house.

Hotchkiss.  It must be rather a house of cards.  A word from me to George—­just the right word, said in the right way—­and down comes your house.

Mrs George.  Thats why I’ll die sooner than let you into it.

Hotchkiss.  Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to-morrow.  George’s taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands.  Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy.

Mrs George [rising, at bay] Do you think I’ll let myself be driven into a trap like this?

Hotchkiss.  You are in it already.  Marriage is a trap.  You are married.  Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life.  I have that power over you.

Mrs George [desperate] You mean it?

Hotchkiss.  I do.

Mrs George [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be—­

Hotchkiss [springing up] Polly!

Mrs George.  Sooner than be your slave I’d face any unhappiness.

Hotchkiss.  What!  Even for George?

Mrs George.  There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness.  Do your worst.

Hotchkiss [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly?  Dare you defy me?

Mrs George.  If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping].

Hotchkiss.  That settles it.  Polly:  I adore you:  we were born for one another.  As I happen to be a gentleman, I’ll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life.

Mrs George.  I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower].

Hotchkiss [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant.

Mrs George [panting] Shant I though?

Hotchkiss.  No you shant.  I have one card left to play that youve forgotten.  Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop?