McCOMAS. Well, well: "True hearts are more than coronets, and simple faith than Norman blood."
WAITER. That depends a good deal on one's station in life, sir. If you were a waiter, sir, you'd find that simple faith would leave you just as short as Norman blood. I find it best to spell myself B. double-O.N., and to keep my wits pretty sharp about me. But I'm taking up your time, sir. You'll excuse me, sir: your own fault for being so affable, sir. I'll tell the ladies you're here, sir. (He goes out into the garden through the window.)
McCOMAS. Crampton: I can depend on you, can't I?
CRAMPTON. Yes, yes. I'll be quiet. I'll be patient. I'll do my best.
McCOMAS. Remember: I've not given you away. I've told them it was all their fault.
CRAMPTON. You told me that it was all my fault.
McCOMAS. I told you the truth.
CRAMPTON (plaintively). If they will only be fair to me!
McCOMAS. My dear Crampton, they won't be fair to you: it's not to be expected from them at their age. If you're going to make impossible conditions of this kind, we may as well go back home at once.
CRAMPTON. But surely I have a right—