."...
"'Sir,' went on Mr. Wurzel-Flummery"--Oh, poor Robert!

CRAWSHAW (sitting down sulkily). You seem quite certain that I shall
take the money.

RICHARD. I am quite certain.

CRAWSHAW. Would you take it?

RICHARD (hesitating). Well--I wonder.

CRAWSHAW. After all, as William Shakespeare says, "What's in a name?"

RICHARD. I can tell you something else that Shakespeare--_William_
Shakespeare--said. (Dramatically rising) Who steals my purse with fifty
thousand in it--steals trash. (In his natural voice) Trash, Robert:
(Dramatically again) But he who filches from me my good name of Crawshaw
(lightly) and substitutes the rotten one of Wurzel--

CRAWSHAW (annoyed). As a matter of fact, Wurzel-Flummery is a very good
old name. I seem to remember some--ah--Hampshire Wurzel-Flummeries.
It is a very laudable spirit on the part of a dying man to wish
to--ah--perpetuate these old English names. It all seems to me quite
natural and straightforward. If I take this money I shall have nothing
to be ashamed of.

RICHARD. I see.... Look here, may I ask you a few questions? I should
like to know just how you feel about the whole business?

CRAWSHAW (complacently folding his hands). Go ahead.

RICHARD. Suppose a stranger came up in the street to you and said, "My
poor man, here's five pounds for you," what would you do? Tell him to go
to the devil, I suppose, wouldn't you?

CRAWSHAW (humorously). In more parliamentary language, perhaps, Richard.
I should tell him I never took money from strangers.

RICHARD. Quite so; but that if it were ten thousand pounds, you would
take it?

CRAWSHAW. I most certainly shouldn't.

RICHARD. But if he died and left it to you, _then_ you would?

CRAWSHAW (blandly). Ah, I thought you were leading up to that. That, of
course, is entirely different.

RICHARD. Why?

CRAWSHAW. Well--ah--wouldn't _you_ take ten thousand pounds if it were
left to you by a stranger?

RICHARD. I daresay I should. But I should like to know why it would seem
different.

CRAWSHAW (professionally). Ha-hum! Well--in the first place, when a man
is dead he wants his money no longer. You can therefore be certain that
you are not taking anything from him which he cannot spare. And in the
neat place, it is the man's dying wish that you should have the money.
To refuse would be to refuse the dead. To accept becomes almost a sacred
duty.

RICHARD. It really comes to this, doesn't it? You won't take it from him
whe