Part 45 (1/2)

SIR TRISTRAM.

[_Savagely to NOAH._] Get out of the way! Georgiana?

GEORGIANA.

Oh, Tris, if this were true how could we break it to the girls?

NOAH.

I could run oop, durin' the evenin', and break it to the girls.

SIR TRISTRAM.

[_Turns upon NOAH._] Look here, all you've got to do is to hold your tongue and take down my description of the Dean, and report his disappearance at Durnstone. [_Pus.h.i.+ng him into a chair._] Go on!

[_Dictating._] ”Missing. The Very Reverend Augustin Jedd, Dean of St.

Marvells.” Poor Gus! Poor Gus!

HANNAH.

[_Softly to GEORGIANA._] Lady, lady.

[_NOAH prepares to write, depositing the baking-tin on the table._

GEORGIANA.

[_Turning._] Eh?

HANNAH.

Hus.h.!.+ Listen to me!

[_Speaks to GEORGIANA excitedly._

SIR TRISTRAM.

[_To NOAH._] Have you got that?

NOAH.

[_Writing laboriously with his legs curled round the chair and his head on the table._] Ay. I'm spelling it my own way.

SIR TRISTRAM.

Poor dear old Gus! [_Dictating._] ”Description!”

NOAH.

Oh noa!