DUVALLET. [rising quickly] That is impossible, mademoiselle.  Your father has his position to consider.  To turn his daughter out of doors would ruin him socially.

KNOX.  Oh, youve put her up to that, have you?  And where did you come in, may I ask?

DUVALLET.  I came in at your invitation—­at your amiable insistence, in fact, not at my own.  But you need have no anxiety on my account.  I was concerned in the regrettable incident which led to your daughter’s incarceration.  I got a fortnight without the option of a fine on the ridiculous ground that I ought to have struck the policeman with my fist.  I should have done so with pleasure had I known; but, as it was, I struck him on the ear with my boot—­a magnificent moulinet, I must say—­and was informed that I had been guilty of an act of cowardice, but that for the sake of the entente cordiale I should be dealt with leniently.  Yet Miss Knox, who used her fist, got a month, but with the option of a fine.  I did not know this until I was released, when my first act was to pay the fine.  And here we are.

MRS KNOX.  You ought to pay the gentleman the fine, Jo.

KNOX. [reddening] Oh, certainly. [He takes out some money].

DUVALLET.  Oh please! it does not matter. [Knox hands him two sovereigns].  If you insist—­ [he pockets them] Thank you.

MARGARET.  I’m ever so much obliged to you, Monsieur Duvallet.

DUVALLET.  Can I be of any further assistance, mademoiselle?

MARGARET.  I think you had better leave us to fight it out, if you dont mind.

DUVALLET.  Perfectly.  Madame [bow]—­Mademoiselle [bow]—­Monsieur [bow]—­[He goes out].

MRS KNOX.  Dont ring, Jo.  See the gentleman out yourself.

Knox hastily sees Duvallet out.  Mother and daughter sit looking forlornly at one another without saying a word.  Mrs Knox slowly sits down.  Margaret follows her example.  They look at one another again.  Mr Knox returns.

KNOX. [shortly and sternly] Amelia:  this is your job. [To Margaret] I leave you to your mother.  I shall have my own say in the matter when I hear what you have to say to her. [He goes out, solemn and offended].

MARGARET. [with a bitter little laugh] Just what the Suffraget said to me in Holloway.  He throws the job on you.

MRS KNOX. [reproachfully] Margaret!

MARGARET.  You know it’s true.

MRS KNOX.  Margaret:  if youre going to be hardened about it, theres no use my saying anything.

MARGARET.  I’m not hardened, mother.  But I cant talk nonsense about it.  You see, it’s all real to me.  Ive suffered it.  Ive been shoved and bullied.  Ive had my arms twisted.  Ive been made scream with pain in other ways.  Ive been flung into a filthy cell with a lot of other poor wretches as if I were a sack of coals being emptied into a cellar.  And the only