GERALD. I shouldn't mind at all. It might clear the way to something. But I have absolutely no belief in the power of Labour even to bring about anything so positive as bloodshed.
JOB ARTHUR. I don't know about that—I don't know. Well.
GERALD. Have another drink before you go.—Yes, do. Help yourself.
JOB ARTHUR. Well—if you're so pressing. (Helps himself.) Here's luck, all!
ALL. Thanks.
GERALD. Take a cigar—there's the box. Go on—take a handful—fill your case.
JOB ARTHUR. They're a great luxury nowadays, aren't they? Almost beyond a man like me.
GERALD. Yes, that's the worst of not being a bloated capitalist. Never mind, you'll be a Cabinet Minister some day.—Oh, all right—I'll open the door for you.
JOB ARTHUR. Oh, don't trouble. Good night—good night. (Exeunt.)
OLIVER. Oh, God, what a world to live in!