tatively] I don't quite know what we have to do with
his private life.

JAMES. No, no! He must make a clean sheet of it, or he can't come
here.

WALTER. Poor devil!

COKESON. Will you--have him in? [And as JAMES nods] I think I can
get him to see reason.

JAMES. [Grimly] You can leave that to me, COKESON.

WALTER. [To JAMES, in a low voice, while COKESON is summoning
FALDER] His whole future may depend on what we do, dad.

FALDER comes in. He has pulled himself together, and presents a
steady front.

JAMES. Now look here, Falder. My son and I want to give you another
chance; but there are two things I must say to you. In the first
place: It's no good coming here as a victim. If you've any notion
that you've been unjustly treated--get rid of it. You can't play
fast and loose with morality and hope to go scot-free. If Society
didn't take care of itself, nobody would--the sooner you realise that
the better.

FALDER. Yes, sir; but--may I say something?

JAMES. Well?

FALDER. I had a lot of time to think it over in prison. [He stops]

COKESON. [Encouraging him] I'm sure you did.

FALDER. There were all sorts there. And what I mean, sir, is, that
if we'd been treated differently the first time, and put under
somebody that could look after us a bit, and not put in prison, not a
quarter of us would ever have got there.

JAMES. [Shaking his head] I'm afraid I've very grave doubts of that,
Falder.

FALDER. [With a gleam of malice] Yes, sir, so I found.

JAMES. My good fellow, don't forget that you began it.

FALDER. I never wanted to do wrong.

JAMES. Perhaps not. But you did.

FALDER. [With all the bitterness of his past suffering] It's knocked
me out of time. [Pulling himself up] That is, I mean, I'm not what
I was.

JAMES. This isn't encouraging for us, Falder.

COKESON. He's putting it awkwardly, Mr. James.

FALDER. [Throwing over his caution from the intensity of his
feeling] I mean it, Mr. Cokeson.

JAMES. Now, lay aside all those thoughts, Falder, and look to the
future.

FALDER. [Almost eagerly] Yes, sir, but you don't understand what
prison is. It's here it gets you.

He grips his chest.

COKESON. [In a whisper to James] I told you he wanted nourishment.

WALTER. Yes, but, my dear fellow, that'll pass away. Time's
merciful.

FALDER. [With his face twitching] I hope so, sir.

JAMES. [Much more gently] Now, my boy, what you've got to