MARGARET. [facing him again] I know nothing about the Frenchman except that hes a very nice fellow and can swing his leg round like the hand of a clock and knock a policeman down with it. He was in Wormwood Scrubbs with you. I was in Holloway. BOBBY. It's all very well to make light of it, Meg; but this is a bit thick, you know. MARGARET. Do you feel you couldnt marry a woman whos been in prison? BOBBY. [hastily] No. I never said that. It might even give a woman a greater claim on a man. Any girl, if she were thoughtless and a bit on, perhaps, might get into a scrape. Anyone who really understood her character could see there was no harm in it. But youre not the larky sort. At least you usent to be. MARGARET. I'm not; and I never will be. [She walks straight up to him]. I didnt do it for a lark, Bob: I did it out of the very depths of my nature. I did it because I'm that sort of person. I did it in one of my religious fits. I'm hardened at eighteen, as they say. So what about the match, now? BOBBY. Well, I dont think you can fairly hold me to it, Meg. Of course it would be ridiculous for me to set up to be shocked, or anything of that sort. I cant afford to throw stones at anybody; and I dont pretend to. I can understand a lark; I can forgive a slip; as long as it is understood that it is only a lark or a slip. But to go on the loose on principle; to talk about religion in connection with it; to--to--well, Meg, I do find that a bit thick, I must say. I hope youre not in earnest when you talk that way. MARGARET. Bobby: youre no good. No good to me, anyhow. BOBBY. [huffed] I'm sorry, Miss Knox. MARGARET. Goodbye, Mr Gilbey. [She turns on her heel and goes to the other end of the table]. I suppose you wont introduce me to the clergyman's daughter. BOBBY. I dont think she'd like it. There are limits, after all. [He sits down at the table, as if to to resume work at his books: a hint to her to go]. MARGARET. [on her way to the door] Ring the bell, Bobby; and tell Juggins to shew me out. BOBBY. [reddening] I'm not a cad, Meg. MARGARET. [coming to the table] Then do something nice to prevent us feeling mean about this afterwards. Youd better kiss me. You neednt ever do it again. BOBBY. If I'm no good, I dont see what fun it would be for you. MARGARET. Oh, it'd be no fun. If I wanted what you call fun, I should ask the Frenchman to kiss me--or Juggins. BOBBY. [rising and retreating to the hearth] Oh, dont be disgusting, Meg. Dont be low. MARGARET. [determinedly, preparing to use force] Now, I'll make you kiss me, just to punish you. [She seizes his wrist; pulls him off his balance; and gets her arm round his neck]. BOBBY. No. Stop. Leave go, will you. _Juggins appears at the door._ JUGGINS. Miss Delaney, Sir. [Dora comes in. Juggins goes out. Margaret hastily releases Bobby, and goes to the other side of the room.]