MRS MARCH. [To FAITH] You can go now.
JOHNNY. [Suddenly, to the YOUNG MAN] Who are you?
YOUNG M. Ask another! [To FAITH] Are you ready?
JOHNNY. [Seeing red] No, she's not; and you'll just clear out.
MR MARCH. Johnny!
YOUNG M. What have you got to do with her?
JOHNNY. Quit.
YOUNG M. I'll quit with her, and not before. She's my girl.
JOHNNY. Are you his girl?
FAITH. Yes.
MRS MARCH sits down again, and reaching out her left hand, mechanically
draws to her the glass of brandy which her husband had poured out for
himself and left undrunk.
JOHNNY. Then why did you--[He is going to say: "Kiss me," but checks
himself]--let me think you hadn't any friends? Who is this fellow?
YOUNG M. A little more civility, please.
JOHNNY. You look a blackguard, and I believe you are.
MR MARCH. [With perfunctory authority] I really can't have this sort of
thing in my house. Johnny, go upstairs; and you two, please go away.
YOUNG M. [To JOHNNY] We know the sort of chap you are--takin' advantage
of workin' girls.
JOHNNY. That's a foul lie. Come into the garden and I'll prove it on
your carcase.
YOUNG M. All right!
FAITH. No; he'll hurt you.
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