Mayhap we are a bit early, Mrs. Eppingwell. But as I was saying, it's
verra dootful morals the giving of this masked ball. Masked, mind you,
with every low dance-hall creature a-dying to come and put decent folk
to the shame of their company. I speak my mind, and it's ay shameful
that honest bodies must be so sore put. There'll be ruffians and
gamblers with masks over their sinful faces, and who's to know? And
there's that Freda woman. 'Tis said she plays with the souls of men as
a child with a wee bit of a pipe plays with soap-bubbles. And there's
all the rest--bold hussies!--who's to stop them from flaunting their
fine feathers in our faces? Who's to stop them, I make free to ask?