Me? Me dislike you, Mr. Manson? _Oh no_!
MANSON. Come along, little comrade.
[They go out like brothers, MANSON'S arm round the lad's shoulders.]
[MARY is left seated on the table, chuckling at the situation.
Suddenly her face becomes serious again: she is lost in thought.
After a while she speaks softly to herself.]
MARY. What have I needed most? What have I not had? . . . Oh! I
know! . . .
[Her face flames with the sudden inspiration.]
And I never dreamed of it till now!
[ROBERT enters by the main door. The child turns round, and,
seeing him, gives a startled little cry. They stand facing each
other, silent. Presently ROBERT falters.]
ROBERT. Beg pawdon, miss: I . . .
MARY. Who are you? What are you doing here?
ROBERT. I'm . . .
I was goin' ter see what's--what's in that room . . .
MARY. If you do, I'll . . .
[She moves swiftly to the bell.]
ROBERT. It's a mistake, miss. P'r'aps I'd--I'd better tek my 'ook.
MARY. Stop! . . .
How dare you! Don't you know you're a very wicked man?
ROBERT.
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