LADY PEMBURY. Poor boy! And couldn't get another.
STRANGER (bitterly). It's a beast of a world if you're down. He's in the gutter—kick him down—trample on him. Nobody wants him. That's the way to treat them when they're down. Trample on 'em.
LADY PEMBURY. And so you came to your father to help you up again. To help you out of the gutter.
STRANGER. That's right.
LADY PEMBURY (pleadingly). Ah, but give him a chance!
STRANGER. Now, look here, I've told you already that I'm not going to have any of that game.
LADY PEMBURY (shaking her head sadly). Foolish boy! You don't understand. Give him a chance to help you out of the gutter.
STRANGER. Well, I'm——! Isn't that what I am doing?
LADY PEMBURY. No, no. You're asking him to trample you right down into it, deeper and deeper into the mud and slime. I want you to let him help you back to where you were two years ago—when you were proud and hopeful.
STRANGER (looking at her in a puzzled way). I can't make out what your game is. It's no good pretending you don't hate the sight of me—it stands to reason you must.