JACK. Well, we’ve all been working so hard. (Going up to him) You’re looking extraordinarily bright, Dad. (He puts an arm affectionately round his father’s shoulder and fingers the Chillingham tie) Who’s your lady friend?
BROXOPP (with dignity). Have you never heard of the Chillingham tie, boy?
JACK. Never. Is that it?
BROXOPP. It is. (Simply) It will be heard of one day.
JACK (smiling). I’m sure it will. I can almost hear it now. (Patting him affectionately) Dear old Dad—I’ve been a rotten son to you, haven’t I? (He drops into a chair.)
BROXOPP (considering it fairly). No, I won’t say that, Jack. You were a very good son to me when you were a baby. You did a lot for the Broxopp business, and I used to like telling people in the City all the funny little things you said. Besides, you made your mother very happy. And then, when you were growing up, I used to enjoy talking about my boy at Eton and my boy at Oxford. One way and another I’ve got a good deal of happiness out of you.
JACK. And then, when I was grown up, you suddenly found that I was a selfish beast.
BROXOPP. You can’t expect father and son to see things the same way. One or the other has got to be [82]selfish. It’s generally the father.... Well, and how’s the picture? Finished?
JACK. Wait till Iris comes in. We’ve decided to tell you our sad story hand in hand. Besides, while we’ve got the chance, there’s something I want you to tell me.
BROXOPP. Well, what is it?