She has ambitions. If you
stand in the way of them she will wither, she will die like a caged
bird. All that was sordid about her parentage she has cast off. We have
thought that we might make something out of her.
PIKE [in a clear voice, looking at her mildly]. Make _something_ out of
her--yes, _ma'am!_
LADY CREECH [quickly]. Make something _better_ of her. We offer her this
alliance with a family which for seven hundred years--
PIKE. Yes, ma'am--Crecy and Agincourt--I know.
LADY CREECH. With a family never sullied by those low ideals of barter
and exchange which are the governing impulses of your countrymen.
PIKE. Seven hundred years--[fumbling in coat-pocket]--why, look here,
Mrs. Creech!
[At this LADY CREECH half rises from her chair with a profound shudder,
sinks back again; PIKE continues.]
I've got a letter right here [takes letter from pocket] that tells me
your brother-in-law was in business--and I respect him for it--only a
few years ago.
LADY CREECH [angrily]. A letter from whom?
PIKE. Jim Cooley, our vice-consul in London. Jim ain't the wisest man in
the world, but he seems to have this all right, and _he_ says Mr.
Hawcastle--
LADY CREECH [exploding]. _Mr._ Hawcastle!
PIKE [placatingly]. Well, I can call a person Colonel or Cap or Doc or
anything of that kind, but I just plain don't know how to use the kind
of words you have over here for those things.
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