Journalist. Excellent, Sir; excellent!

Builder.  Excellent?  It’s damnable.  Here am I—­a man who’s always tried to do his duty in private life and public—­brought up before the Bench—­ my God! because I was doing that duty; with a little too much zeal, perhaps—­I’m not an angel!

Journalist. No!  No! of course.

Builder.  A proper Englishman never is.  But there are no proper
Englishmen nowadays.

     He crosses the room in his fervour.

Ralph. [Suddenly] As I look at faces—­

Builder. [Absorbed] What!  I told this young man I wasn’t an angel.

Journalist. [Drawing him on] Yes, Sir; I quite understand.

Builder.  If the law thinks it can force me to be one of your weak-kneed sentimentalists who let everybody do what they like—­

Ralph.  There are a good many who stand on their rights left, John.

Builder. [Absorbed] What!  How can men stand on their rights left?

Journalist. I’m afraid you had a painful experience, sir.

Builder.  Every kind of humiliation.  I spent the night in a stinking cell.  I haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday.  Did they think I was going to eat the muck they shoved in?  And all because in a moment of anger—­which I regret, I regret!—­I happened to strike my daughter, who was interfering between me and my wife.  The thing would be funny if it weren’t so disgusting.  A man’s house used to be sanctuary.  What is it now?  With all the world poking their noses in?

He stands before the fire with his head bent, excluding as it were his interviewer and all the world.

Journalist. [Preparing to go] Thank you very much, Mr Builder.  I’m sure I can do you justice.  Would you like to see a proof?

Builder. [Half conscious of him] What?

Journalist. Or will you trust me?

Builder.  I wouldn’t trust you a yard.

Journalist. [At the door] Very well, sir; you shall have a proof, I promise.  Good afternoon, and thank you.

Builder.  Here!

     But he is gone, and builder is left staring at his brother, on whose
     face is still that look of whimsical commiseration.

Ralph.  Take a pull, old man!  Have a hot bath and go to bed.

Builder.  They’ve chosen to drive me to extremes, now let them take the consequences.  I don’t care a kick what anybody thinks.

Ralph. [Sadly] Well, I won’t worry you anymore, now.

Builder. [With a nasty laugh] No; come again to-morrow!

Ralph.  When you’ve had a sleep.  For the sake of the family name, John, don’t be hasty.

Builder.  Shut the stable door?  No, my boy, the horse has gone.