I don't mind doing that.
John.
Well, the fact is—Basil's going away, and he wants to get rid of the furniture and the house. What d'you think it's worth, as an auctioneer?
James.
[Looking round.] It's a very different business what a thing's worth, and what it'll fetch.
John.
Of course, but a clever man like you....
James.
Now then, no bluff. I tell you it won't work with me.... D'you include plate and linen?
John.
Everything.
James.
Well, if it was well sold—by a man as knew his business....
John.
If you sold it, for instance?
James.
It might fetch a hundred pounds—it might fetch a hundred and fifty.
John.
That wouldn't be a bad present to make to any one, would it?
James.
No. I think I can agree with you there.
John.
Well, Basil thought of giving the entire contents of the house to your mother and sister.
James.
To tell you the truth, it's no more than he ought to do.
John.
The condition is, of course, that nothing is said at the inquest.
James.
[With a sneer.] You make me laugh. D'you think you can gag me by giving a houseful of furniture to my mother?
John.
I had no such exalted opinion of your disinterestedness, Mr. Bush. I come to you now.
James.
[Sharply.] What d'you mean by that?
John.
It appears that you owe Basil a good deal of money. Can you pay it?
James.
No.
John.
Also it appears that there was some difficulty with your accounts in your last place.
James.
That's a lie.
John.
Possibly. But altogether I fancy we could make it uncommonly nasty for you if you made a fuss. If dirty linen is going to be washed in public—there's generally a good deal to be done on both sides.
James.
I don't care. I mean to get my own back. If I can only get my knife into that man—I'll take the consequences.
John.
On the other hand—if you won't make a fuss at the inquest, I'll give you fifty pounds.
James.
[Jumping up indignantly.] Are you trying to bribe me?
John.
[Calmly.] Yes.
James.
I would 'ave you know that I'm a gentleman, and what's more, I'm an Englishman. And I'm proud of it. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. I've never 'ad any one try and bribe me before.
John.
[Indifferently.] Otherwise you would, doubtless, have accepted.
James.
I've got more than half a mind to knock you down.
John.
[With a slight smile.] Come, come, Mr. Bush, don't be ridiculous. You'd far better keep quiet, you know.
James.
[Scornfully.] What do you think fifty pounds is to me?
John.
[With a sharp look.] Who spoke of fifty pounds?
James.
You did.
John.
You must have mistaken me. A hundred and fifty.
James.
Oh! [At first he is surprised, then, as the amount sinks into his mind, grows doubtful.] That's a very different pair of shoes.
John.
I don't ask you to say anything untrue. After all, it's not worth while for a man of the world like you—a business man—to give way to petty spite. And we don't want to have any scandal. That would be just as unpleasant for you as for us.
James.
[Undecided.] There's no denying that she was hysterical. If he'd only treated me like a gentleman, I shouldn't have had anything to say.
John.
Well?
James.
[With a foxy, keen glance at John.] Make it two 'undred, and I'll say done.
John.
[Firmly.] No. You can take a hundred and fifty, or go to the devil.
James.
Oh, well, 'and it over.
John.
[Taking a cheque out of his pocket.] I'll give you fifty now and the rest after the inquest.
James.
[With a certain admiration.] You're a sharp 'un, you are.
[John writes out the cheque and gives it to James Bush.
James.
Shall I give you a receipt? I'm a business man, you know.
John.
