JOHN (Admiringly). You always were a warm man.
JABEZ. Warm? I believe you. Damme, sir, if I had my time over again I'd do the same. I wish I had, too. I'd show the young 'uns a thing or three, eh, John? They think they're pretty wide awake, but I'll gamble we old cocks could give them a long start and win hands down. Eh, well, what's the good of wishes? (Pours himself some whisky soda.)
JOHN. Yes we've got to face it, old man. You and I have come to the time of life when a man makes his will and begins to think a bit about who's going to step into his shoes when he's done with them.
JABEZ. That's the very thing I want to talk to you about. What I always say is if you've got a bit of business to do with a man, let him come and talk things over with you in your own house. Many's the deal I've made that way in my time. Get a man feeling at home with himself, with some good wine inside him and a good cigar in his lips, and you can have your own way with him. Not that I mean that personally, John. (John waves deprecatingly.)
JABEZ. Only as a general thing.
JOHN. Of course. To be sure.
JABEZ. Yes. We've got to think of the young 'uns. Rosie, now. Rosie's a good girl—been well brought up. No expense spared—same as if she'd been a bov.
JOHN. You've done well by her, if she did disappoint you by being a girl instead of a boy.
JABEZ. Aye, aye. That's an old sore now. And If I haven't a boy, John, you have.
JOHN (Shifting uneasily). Yes, yes, I know I have.