TENNANT. It’s more than that.
CHARLEY. Yes, yes, you don’t understand. It isn’t the idea of travelling—it’s because you want to feel—oh! [He stretches out his arms.] I don’t suppose you ever feel so—
LESLIE. Can’t say I did.
TENNANT. Aren’t you ever sick of the thing, Leslie?
CHARLEY. And don’t you ever want to pitch all the ledgers into the dustbin and burn the stools?
LESLIE. Never—though I’ve met many that have. I tell you, it’s a good thing to have a safe berth nowadays. Many fellows would only be too glad to pick up Tennant’s berth—or yours, Wilson. Think of the crowds that will answer the advertisement at Molesey’s— Last week our firm wanted a man to do overtime work, and they don’t pay too high a rate—I can tell you. They had five hundred and fifteen applications—five hundred and fifteen! Think of that! And that’s what would happen to you if you went, Wilson, and that’ll be the end of Tennant. Sorry to be unpleasant—but truth—
TENNANT. But there’s room on the land—
LESLIE. Land! What on earth can a bally clerk do with a spade? He’d be trying to stick it behind his ear—
Shout of laughter from PERCY MASSEY.