CHARLIE (r.c.). Lenient view!
JABEZ. Yes... I've tumbled to what your silly twaddle really is. You've simply been sowing your wild oats like any other young fellow, only it wouldn't be you if you did things like other people. Most fellows do it over cards or a woman or a lot of women. You've done it over my workmen. And the point is, the point is that you have sown them, that it's done with, ended for good and all————(Charlie turns to speak.) Confound you, don't interrupt. You've had your innings, now it's my turn. You're going to drop your cursed—what's it called?—altruism—and you'll settle down cosily and comfortably with Rosie. That's your programme, my boy.
CHARLIE. To be not only a fool myself, but a breeder of fools! (Rosie turns to fire.) It's no good, Mr. Thompson. I tell you I am going away. I must slip the cable if I'm to have any respect for myself after to-night's work. (Going p. to coat rack.)
ROSIE (turning, quietly). Father, how long is it since you had a cigar?
JABEZ. I don't know.
ROSIE. I am sure it's time you had another. (Jabez takes case out.)
JABEZ. Thank you, my dear.
ROSIE (apparently shocked). Oh, but you mustn't smoke here. Go to the air and smoke your cigar on the step till I come. (Gently manoeuvring him towards the dao? r.)
JABEZ (going reluclantly) But what are you going to do?
ROSIE. It will be all right. You see, this isn't a works' affair any longer, is it?