tell you I will see 'im. He's murdered my sister. He's a blackguard and a murderer, and I'll tell him so to his face.
John.
[Sarcastic.] Take care he doesn't hear you.
James.
I want him to hear me. I'm not frightened of him. I should just like to see him touch me now. [He sidles viciously to John.] H'm, you tried to keep me out, did yer? Said I couldn't come to my sister's 'ouse—and kept me waitin' in the 'all like a tradesman. Oh, I'll make you all pay for this. I'll get my own back now. Measley set of West End curs, that's all you are.
John.
Mr. Bush, you'll be so good as to keep a civil tongue in your mouth while you're here—and you'll talk less loudly.
James.
[Scornfully.] Who says so?
John.
[Looking at him quietly.] I do.
James.
[Less decisively.] Don't you try and bully me.
John.
[Pointing to a chair.] Won't you sit down?
James.
No, I won't sit down. This ain't the 'ouse that a gentleman would sit down in. I'll be even with 'im yet. I'll tell the jury a pretty story. He deserves to be strung up, he does.
John.
I can't tell you how extremely sorry I am for what has happened.
James.
Oh, don't try and get round me.
John.
Really, Mr. Bush, you have no reason to be indignant with me.
James.
Well, I don't think much of you, any 'ow.
John.
I'm very sorry. Last time we met I thought you a very amiable person. Don't you remember, we went and had a drink together?
James.
I don't say you're not a gentleman.
John.
[Taking out his cigar-case.] Won't you have a cigar?
James.
[Suspiciously.] Look here, you're not trying to bluff me, are you?
John.
Certainly not. I wouldn't dream of such a thing.
James.
[Taking a cigar.] Larranaga.
John.
[With an acid smile.] Nine pounds a hundred.
James.
That's one and nine apiece, ain't it?
John.
How quickly you reckon!
James.
You must be pretty oofy to be able to afford that.
John.
[Drily.] It does inspire respect, doesn't it?
James.
I don't know what you mean by that. But I flatter myself I know a good cigar when I see it.
[John sits down, and James Bush, without thinking, follows his example.]
John.
What d'you think you'll get out of making a row at the inquest? Of course, there'll be an inquest.
James.
Yes, I know there will. And I'm lookin' forward to it, I can tell you.
John.
I wouldn't have said that if I'd been you.
James.
[Quite unconscious of the construction that may be put on his last words—full of his own grievances.] I've 'ad something to put up with, I 'ave.
John.
Really?
James.
Oh, he's treated me shockin'! He simply treated me like dirt. I wouldn't 'ave stood it a minute, except for Jenny's sake. I wasn't good enough for 'im, if you please. And the way he used to look right through me as if I wasn't there at all—Oh, I'll be even with 'im now.
John.
What are you going to do?
James.
Never you mind. I'm going to make it hot for 'im.
John.
D'you think that'll do you any good?
James.
[Springing up.] Yes. And I mean to....
John.
[Interrupting.] Now sit down, there's a good chap, and let's have a little talk about it.
James.
[Angrily.] You're trying to bamboozle me.
John.
Nonsense.
James.
Oh, yes, you are. Don't try to deny it. I can see through you as if you was a pane of glass. You people in the West End—you think you know everything.
John.
I assure you....
James.
[Interrupting.] But I've had a City training, and you can lay anything you like there ain't no flies on me.
John.
We're both men of the world, Mr. Bush. Will you do me a great favour as a—friend?
James.
[Suspiciously.] That depends on what it is.
John.
It's merely to listen to me quietly for two or three minutes.
James.
