_Ablett._
[_Grasping Arthur's hand._] Excuse the freedom, sir, if freedom you
regard it as----
_Arthur._
Eh-----?
-,
_Ablett._
You 'ave plucked the flower, sir; you 'ave stole our ch'icest blossom.
_Arthur._
[_Trying to get away._] Yes, yes, I know----
_Ablett._
Cherish it, Mr. Glover----!
[Illustration: 0049]
_Arthur._