Yes, I don't mind; come along, Trotty!
WARDEN. You must excuse Trotter. I want a talk with him if he will give
me five minutes.
CLARA. Oh, certainly.
[_She goes out Left behind the house._
WARDEN. [_To_ MASON.] Will you see Mrs. Hunter?
TROTTER. I beg your pardon, Mrs. _Trotter_!
WARDEN. [_Politely._] I beg yours. [_To_ MASON.] See Mrs. Trotter.
MASON. [_Aside to_ WARDEN.] You're going to ask _him_ to go on Dick's
note for Ryder?
WARDEN. [_In a low voice._] Yes.
MASON. You're a wonder! As if _he_ would!
WARDEN. _Somebody must_, and there's nobody else. That boy and that
mother have got to be saved!
MASON. I'm sorry my name's no good for us.
WARDEN. And mine mustn't be used.
MASON. No, indeed! The minute that was done, there'd be a new
complication, and more trouble would tumble down on Mrs. Sterling's
head. Good luck.
[_Shakes his hand and enters the house._
TROTTER. What's up? _You_ haven't come to kick about my wedding, have
you? I wouldn't stand for that, you know!
WARDEN. It's not that, Mr. Trotter. Your wife's son-in-law, Sterling,
has turned out a blackguard; he has had intrusted to him Miss Ruth
Hunter's money and several other people's, and he's used it all for
speculation of his own.
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