She little wots that
this--this adventurer who has so strongly interested her by his
nepotic--
Mrs. Perkins (interrupting). Hypnotic, Mr. Barlow.
Barlow. What did I say?
Mrs. Perkins. Nepotic.
Barlow. How stupid of me! I'll begin again.
Mrs. Perkins (desperately). Oh, pray don't. Go on from where you
left off. That's a fearfully long aside, anyhow, and I go nearly
crazy every time you say it. I don't know what to do with myself.
It's easy enough for Mr. Yardsley to say occupy yourself somehow, but
what I want to know is, how? I can't look inquiringly at you all
that time, waiting for you to say "Ireland! Oh, yes--yes--just over
from Dublin." I can't lean against the mantel-piece and gaze into
the fire, because the mantel-piece is only canvas, and would fall
down if I did.
Barlow. It's a long aside, Mrs. Perkins, but it's awfully important,
and I don't see how we can cut it down. It's really the turning-
point of the play, in which I reveal the true state of affairs to the
audience.
Mrs. Perkins (with a sigh). I suppose that's true. I'll have to
stand it.
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