PHILIP (to himself). I suppose I shall have to think of another argument. (He takes out a revolver from him pocket and fondles it affectionately.)
JAMES (looking up suddenly as he is doing this—amazed). What on earth are you doing?
PHILIP. Souvenir from France. Do you know, Uncle. James, that this revolver has killed about twenty Germans?
JAMES (shortly). Oh! Well, don't go playing about with it here, or you'll be killing Englishmen before you know where you are.
PHILIP. Well, you never know. (He raises it leisurely and points it at his uncle.) It's a nice little weapon.
JAMES (angrily). Put it down, sir. You ought to have grown out of monkey tricks like that in the Army. You ought to know better than to point an unloaded revolver at anybody. That's the way accidents always happen.
PHILIP. Not when you've been on a revolver course and know all about it. Besides, it is loaded.
JAMES (very angry because he is frightened suddenly). Put it down at once, sir. (PHILIP turns it away from him and examines it carelessly.) What's the matter with you? Have you gone mad suddenly?
PHILIP (mildly). I thought you'd be interested in it. It's shot such a lot of Germans.
JAMES. Well, it won't want to shoot any more, and the sooner you get rid of it the better.