O'Connell. I am glad that you understand. But, again ... have I been wrong to shrink from personal relations with Mr. Trebell? Hatred is as sacred a responsibility as love. And you will not agree with me when I say that punishment can be the salvation of a man's soul.
Farrant. [With aggressive common sense.] Look here. O'Connell, if you're indifferent it doesn't hurt you to let him off. And if you hate him...! Well, one shouldn't hate people ... there's no room for it in this world.
Cantelupe. [Quietly as ever.] We have some authority for thinking that the punishment of a secret sin is awarded by God secretly.
O'Connell. We have very poor authority, sir, for using God's name merely to fill up the gaps in an argument, though we may thus have our way easily with men who fear God more than they know him. I am not one of those. Yes, Farrant, you and your like have left little room in this world except for the dusty roads on which I notice you beginning once more to travel. The rule of them is the same for all, is it not ... from the tramp and the labourer to the plutocrat in his car? This is the age of equality; and it's a fine practical equality ... the equality of the road. But you've fenced the fields of human joy and turned the very hillsides into hoardings, Commercial opportunity is painted on them, I think.
Farrant. [Not to be impressed.] Perhaps it is O'Connell. My father made his money out of newspapers and I ride in a motor car and you came from Holyhead by train. What has all that to do with it? Why can't you make up your mind? You know in this sort of case one talks a lot ... and then does the usual thing. You must let Trebell off and that's all about it.
O'Connell. Indeed. And do they still think it worth while to administer an oath to your witnesses?
He is interrupted by the flinging open of the door and the triumphant right-this-time-anyhow voice in which Edmunds announces "Mr. Trebell, my lord." The general consternation expresses itself through Horsham, who complains aloud and unreservedly.
Horsham. Good God.... No! Charles, I must give him notice at once ... he'll have to go. [He apologises to the company.] I beg your pardon.
By this time Trebell is in the room and has discovered the stranger, who stands to face him without emotion or anger, Blackborough's face wears the grimmest of smiles, Cantelupe is sorry, Farrant recovers from the fit of choking which seemed imminent and Edmunds, dimly perceiving by now some fly in the perfect amber of his conduct, departs. The two men still face each other, Farrant is prepared to separate them should they come to blows, and indeed is advancing in that anticipation when O'Connell speaks.
O'Connell. I am Justin O'Connell.