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PIKE. I haven't time to be elegant, even if I knew how.
ETHEL. Do you mean that my chaperone would disapprove?
PIKE. I shouldn't be surprised. I reckon the whole fine flower of Europe would disapprove. "Disapprove?"--they'd _sand-bag_ you to keep you away!
ETHEL [rising quickly]. Oh, then I can't stay.
PIKE [going between her and the upper doors, speaks with ring of domination]. Yes you can, and you will, and you've got to!
ETHEL [angrily]. "Got to!" I shall not!
PIKE. I'm your guardian, and you'll do as I say. You'll obey me this once if you never do again.
[She looks at him defiantly; he faces her with determination, and continues without pause.]
You'll stay here while I talk to these people, and you'll stay in spite of anything they say or do to make you go.
[Slight pause; she yields and walks back to her chair. PIKE continues.]
G.o.d knows I hate to talk rough to you. I wouldn't hurt your feelings for the world, but it's come to a point where I've got to use the authority I have over you.
ETHEL [with a renewal of her defiance]. Authority? Do you think--
PIKE. You'll stay here for the next twenty minutes if I have to make Crecy and Agincourt look like a Peace Conference!
[She looks at him aghast, sinks into chair by table; he continues after a very slight pause.]
You and your brother have soaked up a society-column notion of life over here; you're like old Pete Delaney of Terry Hut--he got so he'd drink cold tea if there was a whiskey label on the bottle. They've fuddled you with labels. It's my business to see that you know what kind of people you're dealin' with.
ETHEL [almost in tears]. You're bullying me! I don't see why you talk so brutally to me.
PIKE [sadly and earnestly]. Do you think I'd do it for anything but you?
ETHEL [angrily]. You are odious! Insufferable!
PIKE [humbly]. Don't you think I know you despise me?
ETHEL. I do not despise you; if I had stayed at home, and grown up there, I should probably have been a provincial young woman playing "Sweet Genevieve" for you to-night. But my life has not been that, and you have humiliated me from the moment of your arrival here. You have made me ashamed both of you and of myself. And now you have some preposterous plan which will shame me again, humiliate both of us once more, before my friends, these gentlefolk.
[A loud noise without. LADY CREECH'S voice is heard shouting.]
PIKE [dryly]. I think the gentlefolk are here.
[The upper doors up centre are thrown open; LADY CREECH hurriedly enters, with MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY and HORACE, followed by ALMERIC.]
LADY CREECH. My dear child, what are you doing in this dreadful place with this dreadful person?
MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY. My dear, les convenances!
HORACE. Ethel, I'm extremely surprised; come away at once!
ALMERIC. Oh, I say, you know, really, Miss Ethel! You can't stay here, you know, _can_ you?
PIKE. I'm her guardian; she's here by my authority, she'll stay by my authority.
[LORD HAWCASTLE appears in the open doors and bows sardonically to PIKE.]
HAWCASTLE [suavely]. Ah, good-evening, Mr. Pike!
HORACE. Lord Hawcastle, will you insist upon Ethel's leaving? It's quite on the cards we shall have a disagreeable scene here.
HAWCASTLE [smiling]. I see no occasion for it; we're here simply for Mr.
Pike's answer. He knows where we stand and we know where he stands.
PIKE [with a grim smile]. I reckon you're right so far.
HAWCASTLE [continuing]. And his answer will be yes.
PIKE [with quiet emphasis]. But you're wrong there!
HAWCASTLE [to HORACE, with sudden seriousness]. Perhaps you are right, Mr. Granger-Simpson. Painful things may be done. Better the young lady were spared them. Take your sister away.
[He motions HORACE toward the door.]
ALMERIC. For G.o.d's sake do--it may be quite rowdy.
LADY CREECH [to ETHEL at the same time]. My dear, you positively must!
HORACE. Ethel, I command you!
[ETHEL, troubled, half rises as if to go]
PIKE [imperiously, to ETHEL]. You stay right where you are!
ALMERIC [angrily]. Oh, I say!
LADY CREECH. Oh, the lynching ruffian!
HORACE. Ethel, do you mean to let this fellow dictate to you?
ETHEL [breathlessly and loudly, as if resistance were hopeless].
But--he says I _must_!
[She sinks back into her chair.]
PIKE [to HAWCASTLE]. You're here for an answer, you say?
HAWCASTLE [on the defensive]. Yes!