For five quid--(_Pause_.)--after a jolly good spree.
Bessie (_Scathingly_). You and that--that--chum of yours have been
drinking.
Harry (_Laughs_). Don't fly out, Miss Bessie--dear. Ginger's not a
bad little chap. Can't take care of himself, tho'. Blind three days.
(_Serious_.) Don't think I am given that way. Nothing and nobody can get
over me unless I like. I can be as steady as a rock.
Bessie (_Murmurs_). Oh! I don't think you are bad.
Harry (_Approvingly_). You're right there. (_Impulsive_.) Ask the girls
all over-------(_Checks himself_.) Ginger, he's long-headed, too, in
his way--mind you. He sees the paper this morning, and says he to me,
'Hallo! Look at that, Harry--loving parent--that's five quid, sure.' So
we scraped all our pockets for the fare....
Bessie (_Unbelieving_). You came here for that.
Harry (_Surprised_). What else would I want here? Five quid isn't much
to ask for--once in sixteen years. (_Through his teeth with a sidelong
look at B._) And now I am ready to go--for my fare.
Bessie (_Clasping her hands_). Whoever heard a man talk like this
before! I can't believe you mean it?
Harry. What? That I would go? You just try and see.
Bessie (_Disregarding him_). Don't you care for anyone? Didn't you ever
want anyone in the world to care for you?
Harry. In the world! (_Boastful_.
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