Hillcrist. Well, I’m——!  I don’t know about touchy.

Jill.  He says there’ll be no world fit to live in till we get rid of the old.  We must make them climb a tall tree, and shake them off it.

Hillcrist. [Drily] Oh! he says that!

Jill.  Otherwise, with the way they stand on each other’s rights, they’ll spoil the garden for the young.

Hillcrist. Does his father agree?

Jill.  Oh!  Rolf doesn’t talk to him, his mouth’s too large.  Have you ever seen it, Dodo?

Hillcrist. Of course.

Jill.  It’s considerable, isn’t it?  Now yours is—­reticent, darling. [Rumpling his hair.]

Hillcrist. It won’t be in a minute.  Do you realise that I’ve got gout?

Jill.  Poor ducky!  How long have we been here, Dodo?

Hillcrist. Since Elizabeth, anyway.

Jill. [Looking at his foot] It has its drawbacks.  D’you think Hornblower had a father?  I believe he was spontaneous.  But, Dodo, why all this—­this attitude to the Hornblowers?

     [She purses her lips and makes a gesture as of pushing persons
     away.]

Hillcrist. Because they’re pushing.

Jill.  That’s only because we are, as mother would say, and they’re not—­yet.  But why not let them be?

Hillcrist. You can’t.

Jill.  Why?

Hillcrist. It takes generations to learn to live and let live,
Jill.  People like that take an ell when you give them an inch.

Jill.  But if you gave them the ell, they wouldn’t want the inch. 
Why should it all be such a skin game?

Hillcrist. Skin game?  Where do you get your lingo?

Jill.  Keep to the point, Dodo.

Hillcrist. Well, Jill, all life’s a struggle between people at different stages of development, in different positions, with different amounts of social influence and property.  And the only thing is to have rules of the game and keep them.  New people like the Hornblowers haven’t learnt those rules; their only rule is to get all they can.

Jill.  Darling, don’t prose.  They’re not half as bad as you think.

Hillcrist. Well, when I sold Hornblower Longmeadow and the cottages, I certainly found him all right.  All the same, he’s got the cloven hoof. [Warming up] His influence in Deepwater is thoroughly bad; those potteries of his are demoralising—­the whole atmosphere of the place is changing.  It was a thousand pities he ever came here and discovered that clay.  He’s brought in the modern cutthroat spirit.

Jill.  Cut our throat spirit, you mean.  What’s your definition of a gentleman, Dodo?

Hillcrist. [Uneasily] Can’t describe—­only feel it.

Jill.  Oh!  Try!