tares
at him; then goes out with great dignity. He receives this quite
obtusely, and crosses to the hearth-rug, where he turns and spreads
himself with his back to the fire.) Startin' on your rounds, Mr. Mill?

LEXY (folding his paper and pocketing it). Yes: I must be off presently.

BURGESS (momentously). Don't let me detain you, Mr. Mill. What I come
about is private between me and Mr. Morell.

LEXY (huffily). I have no intention of intruding, I am sure, Mr.
Burgess. Good morning.

BURGESS (patronizingly). Oh, good morning to you. (Morell returns as
Lexy is making for the door.)

MORELL (to Lexy). Off to work?

LEXY. Yes, sir.

MORELL (patting him affectionately on the shoulder). Take my silk
handkerchief and wrap your throat up. There's a cold wind. Away with
you.

(Lexy brightens up, and goes out.)

BURGESS. Spoilin' your curates, as usu'l, James. Good mornin'. When I
pay a man, an' 'is livin' depen's on me, I keep him in his place.

MORELL (rather shortly). I always keep my curates in their places as my
helpers and comrades. If you get as much work out of your clerks and
warehousemen as I do out of my curates, you must be getting rich pretty
fast. Will you take your old chair?

(He points with curt authority to the arm chair beside the fireplace;
then takes the spare chair from the table and sits down in front of
Burgess.)

BURGESS (without moving). Just the same as hever, James!

MORELL. When you last called--it was about three years ago, I
think--you said the same thing a little more frankly. Your exact words
then were: "Just as big a fool as ever, James?"

BURGESS (soothingly). Well, perhaps I did; but (with conciliatory
cheerfulness) I meant no offence by it. A clergyman is privileged to be
a bit of a fool, you know: it's on'y becomin' in his profession that he
should. Anyhow, I come here, not to rake up hold differences, but to
let bygones be bygones. (Suddenly becoming very solemn, and approaching
Morell.) James: three year ago, you done me a hill turn. You done me
hout of a contrac'; an' when I gev you 'arsh words in my nat'ral
disappointment, you turned my daughrter again me. Well, I've come to
act the part of a Cherischin. (Offering his hand.) I forgive you, James.

MORELL (starting up). Confound your impudence!

BURGESS (retreating, with almost lachrymose deprecation of this
treatment). Is that becomin' language for a clergyman, James?--and you
so partic'lar, too?

MORELL (hotly). N