Lady Bracknell.
I dare not even suspect, Dr. Chasuble. I need hardly tell you
that in families of high position strange coincidences are not supposed to
occur. They are hardly considered the thing.
[Noises heard overhead as if some one was throwing trunks about. Every
one looks up.]
Cecily.
Uncle Jack seems strangely agitated.
Chasuble.
Your guardian has a very emotional nature.
Lady Bracknell.
This noise is extremely unpleasant.
It sounds as if he was
having an argument. I dislike arguments of any kind. They are always
vulgar, and often convincing.
Chasuble.
[Looking up.] It has stopped now. [The noise is redoubled.]
Lady Bracknell.
I wish he would arrive at some conclusion.
Gwendolen.
This suspense is terrible. I hope it will last. [Enter
Jack
with a
hand-bag of black leather in his hand.]
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