RICHARD.
It is you who are in danger. I warned you—
ANDERSON.
(interrupting him goodhumoredly but authoritatively). Yes, yes, Mr. Dudgeon; but they do not think so in the town. And even if I were in danger, I have duties here I must not forsake. But you are a free man. Why should you run any risk?
RICHARD.
Do you think I should be any great loss, Minister?
ANDERSON.
I think that a man’s life is worth saving, whoever it belongs to. (Richard makes him an ironical bow. Anderson returns the bow humorously.) Come: you’ll have a cup of tea, to prevent you catching cold?
RICHARD.
I observe that Mrs. Anderson is not quite so pressing as you are, Pastor.
JUDITH.
(almost stifled with resentment, which she has been expecting her husband to share and express for her at every insult of Richard’s). You are welcome for my husband’s sake. (She brings the teapot to the fireplace and sets it on the hob.)
RICHARD.
I know I am not welcome for my own, madam. (He rises.) But I think I will not break bread here, Minister.
ANDERSON.
(cheerily). Give me a good reason for that.
RICHARD.
Because there is something in you that I respect, and that makes me desire to have you for my enemy.
ANDERSON.
That’s well said. On those terms, sir, I will accept your enmity or any man’s. Judith: Mr. Dudgeon will stay to tea. Sit down: it will take a few minutes to draw by the fire. (Richard glances at him with a troubled face; then sits down with his head bent, to hide a convulsive swelling of his throat.) I was just saying to my wife, Mr. Dudgeon, that enmity— (she grasps his hand and looks imploringly at him, doing both with an intensity that checks him at once) Well, well, I mustn’t tell you, I see; but it was nothing that need leave us worse friend—enemies, I mean. Judith is a great enemy of yours.