JABEZ. Curse their carelessness. (Irritably.) Another inquest, of course, and headlines in the papers and questions from the Coroner. What is it this time? Another, drunken fool walked into the vitriol tanks?
CHARLIE (bitterly). Oh, no, this needn't trouble you. We don't often kill men suddenly. We poison them by gradual degrees.
JABEZ. What was it? Am I ever going to know?
CHARLIE. The lift gave way.
JABEZ. The lift? Oh, we're not responsible for that. It was inspected only last week. We hold a certificate of efficiency.
CHARLIE. Oh, yes, it was examined right enough. Only the men tell me the inspector was drunk when he came.
JABEZ. They can't prove it.
CHARLIE. Not they. You needn't worry. They'll not have the pluck to repeat it in court. (Up stage L.)
JABEZ. Certainly not; a coroner's court isn't the place for irresponsible gossip of that kind.
CHARLIE (down to sofa). No, the verdict will be accidental death right enough, with polite expressions of sympathy and a rider exonerating us from blame.