Crapsey. Madam?
Jack. I will not go.
Crapsey. Madam, your decision!
Jack. It is easily decided, Jane. I refuse to go.
Crapsey (marching up to him). I did not ask you to go, sir! Your conduct is an impertinence.
Jack (to Jane). I will not live with a lunatic. Surely the law must side with me there.
Crapsey (roaring with rage). Who is this offensive young person, may I ask, who insults me in this fashion?
Jack (stepping out). I am John, plain John, Disciple No. 1, in Crapsey's School for Socialism. And I hold the dubious distinction of being the only pupil you ever had. (Crapsey's feelings are hurt beyond expression. He wilts perceptibly. At length, with whatever dignity is still his, he turns his back upon the company and stalks for the door. There he hesitates for a moment and all draw back in doubt as to whether he is about to go or charge upon them.)
Hargrave (crawling out). Is he gone? (He presents a droll figure, sooted and covered with dust.)
Crapsey (returning with two or three wondrous strides). I am not gone, sir. And who are you?