Frank. Keep it! But you don't keep it.
Scr. Let me leave it alone, then. Much good may it do you. Much good it has ever done you.
Frank. There are many things from which I might have derived good by which I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas among the rest, but I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time—a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys, and, therefore, uncle, though it has not put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good, and I say, Heaven bless it!
Bob. (Looking in.) Beautiful—beautiful!
Scr. Let me hear another sound from you—(To Bob.)—And you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation.
Bob. (Aside.) He growls like a bear with a sore head! (Disappears.)
Scr. You're quite a powerful speaker. I wonder you don't go into Parliament.
Frank. Don't be angry. Come—dine with me to-morrow.
Scr. No, no——
Frank. But why not?