One more parasite.
LADY PEMBURY (interested). I always thought parasites were much
smaller than Perkins. (Sitting down) Do sit down, won't you? (He sits
down reluctantly.) You mustn't mind my being here. This is really my
work-room. I expect my husband will take you into his own room when
he's ready.
STRANGER. Your work-room?
LADY PEMBURY (looking up at him with a smile). You don't seem to like
our domestic arrangements.
STRANGER (waving his hand at her embroidery). You call that work?
LADY PEMBURY (pleasantly). Other people's work always seems so
contemptible, doesn't it? Now I expect if you tried to do this, you
would find it very difficult indeed, and if I tried to do yours--what
_is_ your work, Mr.--er--Dear me, I don't even know your name.
STRANGER (bitterly). Never mind my name. Take it that I haven't got a
name.
LADY PEMBURY. But your friends must call you something.
STRANGER. Take it that I haven't got any friends.
LADY PEMBURY. Oh, _don't_ say that! How _can_ you?
STRANGER (surly). What's it matter to you whether anybody cares about
me?
LADY PEMBURY. Oh, never mind whether anybody cares about _you_; don't
_you_ care about anybody?
STRANGER. Nobody.
LADY PEMBURY.
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