So I'm an
object, am I? I'm a thing, am I? I'm a fool that hasn't sense
enough to feed myself properly, am I? I'm afraid of the men that
would starve if it weren't for the wages I give them, am I? I'm
nothing but a disgusting old skinflint to be made a convenience
of by designing women and fool managers of my works, am I? I'm--
MRS HUSHABYE [with the most elegant aplomb]. Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh! Mr
Mangan, you are bound in honor to obliterate from your mind all
you heard while you were pretending to be asleep. It was not
meant for you to hear.
MANGAN. Pretending to be asleep! Do you think if I was only
pretending that I'd have sprawled there helpless, and listened to
such unfairness, such lies, such injustice and plotting and
backbiting and slandering of me, if I could have up and told you
what I thought of you! I wonder I didn't burst.
MRS HUSHABYE [sweetly]. You dreamt it all, Mr Mangan. We were
only saying how beautifully peaceful you looked in your sleep.
That was all, wasn't it, Ellie? Believe me, Mr Mangan, all those
unpleasant things came into your mind in the last half second
before you woke. Ellie rubbed your hair the wrong way; and the
disagreeable sensation suggested a disagreeable dream.
MANGAN [doggedly]. I believe in dreams.
MRS HUSHABYE.
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