Oh, decidedly. Oh, there's no question of that.
CRAWSHAW (introducing). My wife--and daughter. (CLIFTON bows gracefully.) My friend, Mr. Richard Meriton.
CLIFTON (happily).Dear me! Mr. Meriton too! This is quite a situation, as we say in the profession.
RICHARD (amused by him). In the legal profession?
CLIFTON. In the theatrical profession.(Turning to MARGARET) I am a writer of plays, Mrs. Crawshaw. I am not giving away a professional secret when I tell you that most of the managers in London have thanked me for submitting my work to them.
CRAWSHAW (firmly).I understood, Mr. Clifton, that you were the solicitor employed to wind up the affairs of the late Mr. Antony Clifton.
CLIFTON. Oh, certainly. Oh, there's no doubt about my being a solicitor. My clerk, a man of the utmost integrity, not to say probity, would give me a reference. I am in the books; I belong to the Law Society. But my heart turns elsewhere. Officially I have embraced the profession of a solicitor--(Frankly, to MRS. CRAWSHAW) But you know what these official embraces are.
MARGARET. I'm afraid--(She turns to her husband for assistance.)
CLIFTON (to RICHARD). Unofficially, Mr. Meriton, I am wedded to the Muses.
VIOLA. Dick, isn't he lovely?
CRAWSHAW. Quite so. But just for the moment, Mr. Clifton, I take it that we are concerned with legal business. Should I ever wish to produce a play, the case would be different.
CLIFTON. Admirably put. Pray regard me entirely as the solicitor for as long as you wish. (He puts his hat down on a chair with the papers in it, and taking off his gloves, goes on dreamily) Mr. Denis Clifton was superb as a solicitor. In spite of an indifferent make-up, his manner of taking off his gloves and dropping them into his hat--(He does so.)
MARGARET (to CRAWSHAW). I think, perhaps, Viola and I--
RICHARD (making a move too). We'll leave you to your business, Robert.
CLIFTON (holding up his hand). Just one moment if I may. I have a letter for you, Mr. Meriton.
RICHARD (surprised). For me?
CLIFTON. Yes. My clerk, a man of the utmost integrity--oh, but I said that before--he took it round to your rooms this morning, but found only painters and decorators there. (He is feeling in his pockets and now brings the letter out.) I brought it along, hoping that Mr. Crawshaw--but of course I never expected anything so delightful as this. (He hands over the letter with a bow.)
RICHARD. Thanks. (He puts it in his pocket.)
CLIFTON. Oh, but do read it now, won't you? (To MR. CRAWSHAW) One so rarely has an opportunity of being present when one's own letters are read. I think the habit they have on the stage of reading letters aloud to other is such a very delightful one.
(RICHARD, with a smile and a shrug, has opened his letter while CLIFTON is talking.)
RICHARD. Good Lord!
VIOLA. Dick, what is it?
RICHARD (reading). "199, Lincoln's Inn Fields. Dear Sir, I have the pleasure to inform you that under the will of the late Mr. Antony Clifton you are a beneficiary to the extent of 50,000."
VIOLA. Dick!
RICHARD. "A trifling condition is attached--namely, that you should take the name of--Wurzel-Flummery." (CLIFTON, with his hand on his heart, bows gracefully from one to the other of them.)
CRAWSHAW (annoyed). Impossible! Why should he leave any money to _you_?
VIOLA. Dick! How wonderful!
MARGARET (mildly). I don't remember ever having had a morning quite like this.
RICHARD (angrily). Is this a joke, Mr. Clifton?
CLIFTON. Oh, the money is there all right. My clerk, a man of the utmost--
RICHARD. Then I refuse it. I'll have nothing to do with it. I won't even argue about it. (Tearing the letter into bits) That's what I think of your money. [He stalks indignantly from the room.]
VIOLA. Dick! Oh, but, mother, he mustn't. Oh, I must tell him-- [She hurries after him.]
MARGARET (with dignity). Really, Mr. Clifton, I'm surprised at you. [She goes out too.]
CLIFTON (looking round the room). And now, Mr. Crawshaw, we are alone.
CRAWSHAW. Yes. Well, I think, Mr. Clifton, you have a good deal to explain--
CLIFTON. My dear sir, I'm longing to begin. I have been looking forward to this day for weeks. I spent over an hour this morning dressing for it. (He takes papers from his hat and moves to the sofa.) Perhaps I had better begin from the beginning.
CRAWSHAW (interested, indicating the papers). The documents in the case?
CLIFTON. Oh dear, no just something to carry in the hand. It makes one look more like a solicitor. (Reading the title) "Watherston v. Towser--in re Great Missenden Canal Company." My clerk invents the titles; it keeps him busy. He is very fond of Towser; Towser is always coming in. (Frankly) You see, Mr. Crawshaw, this is my first real case, and I only got it because Antony Clifton is my uncle. My efforts to introduce a little picturesqueness into the dull formalities of the law do not meet with that response that one would have expected.
CRAWSHAW (looking at his watch). Yes. Well, I'm a busy man, and if you could tell me as shortly as possible why your uncle left this money to me, and apparently to Mr. Meriton too, under these extraordinary conditions, I shall be obliged to you.
CLIFTON. Say no more, Mr. Crawshaw; I look forward to being entirely frank with you. It will be a pleasure.
CRAWSHAW. You understand, of course, my position. I think I may say that I am not without reputation in the country; and proud as I am to accept this sacred trust, this money which the late Mr. Antony Clifton has seen fit--(modestly) one cannot say why--to bequeath to me, yet the use of the name Wurzel-Flummery would be excessively awkward.
CLIFTON (cheerfully). Excessively.
CRAWSHAW. My object in seeing you was to inquire if it was absolutely essential that the name should go with the money.
CLIFTON. Well (thoughtfully), you may have the name _without_ the money if you like. But you must have the name.
CRAWSHAW (disappointed). Ah! (Bravely) Of course, I have nothing against the name, a good old Hampshire name--
CLIFTON
