Becky Sharp Page #4

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Miss Sharp has left the house, mam.

Probably on some dark amorous errand.

Some dark amorous errand, eh?

I wouldn't put it past her.

I've been watching her for weeks.

A smile for the butcher, and a smile for the baker.

That girl hasn't a principle to bless herself with.

That's what I like about her.

What are those weeds doing here?

You know how vegetation nauseates me.

But these were brought by your nephew, mam.

Captain Crawley.

Very cozy nosegays.

Throw it out! And throw my nephew out too.

What the devil is he doing around here

every single day?

Well, that's not hard to guess, mam.

Miss Sharp has a way of blinking,

and a way of winking.

What? Are you suggesting that my nephew

would as much as notice that girl?

How dare you? Show him in.

And get Miss Sharp for me.

Go to her room! Get her!

Don't you come back here without her!

Yes, mam.

Oh, my head, my head.

I know I shall get the wafers.

Miss Crawley is awaiting you, sir.

Dear Aunt Julia.

Well, sir, to what am I indebted

for the question of the honor of this visit?

To the affection of a devoted nephew.

And do devoted nephews always get themselves

oiled and barbered to call on their maiden aunts?

Or did you hope to find Becky Sharp at home?

Answer me!

Becky, eh?

Now I will not have you so much as look at Becky.

Remember that!

That girl will twist you round her little finger.

But Aunt Julia, I assure you...

Don't assure me, sir, I assure you!

I will indulge and I've been generous. I've paid your card debts

and I've laughed at your extravagance!

But I'll not have you ensnared

by any calculated little snip of a menial.

The woman you marry must be a lady.

And a lady of quality!

How dare you come bounding into the room like this.

Just as I knowed. Miss Sharp's not in her room.

She's not in the house.

There isn't a stitch of clothing in the closet

and there's a trunk all packed.

Trunk? Packed? Well, where is it?

Bring it here! Instantly!

Well, well, well...!

Do you expect me to go for it myself?

Hurry! Hurry!

Who is it now?

Am I never to have any peace?

Rawdon, put that brandy down!

Hards and spirits are for invalids only.

Give it to me.

Mr. Pitt calling, mam.

That pewling hypocrite!

Don't you dare show him in!

Well, sir. Isn't London difficult enough

without your presence?

Here you come, reeking with the vulgar

urges of the country.

Madam, I've been sent by my good father.

That old ruffrub prate, what does he want?

My father wishes to know if you still have need

of Miss Rebecca'a services.

I certainly haven't, but neither has he.

Sir Pitt is lonesome, madam, very lonesome.

If he's lonesome, let him join Napoleon at Elba.

Then they can both be lonesome together.

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