TOMPSETT (not quite knowing whether to let it pass). Beg pardon, my
lord, it's a girl.

LORD LOAM. A girl? Aha! ha! ha! exactly what I said. I distinctly
remember saying, If it's spared it will be a girl.

(CRICHTON now comes down.)

LORD LOAM. Very delighted to see you, Crichton.

(CRICHTON has to shake hands.)

Mary, you know Mr. Crichton?

(He wanders off in search of other prey.)

LADY MARY. Milk and sugar, Crichton?

CRICHTON. I'm ashamed to be seen talking to you, my lady.

LADY MARY. To such a perfect servant as you all this must be most
distasteful. (CRICHTON is too respectful to answer.) Oh, please do
speak, or I shall have to recite. You do hate it, don't you?

CRICHTON. It pains me, your ladyship. It disturbs the etiquette of
the servants' hall. After last month's meeting the pageboy, in a
burst of equality, called me Crichton. He was dismissed.

LADY MARY. I wonder--I really do--how you can remain with us.