ANDR. I can’t take any favour from you.
MICH. Old comrade (leaning on ANDREW’S shoulder; ANDREW draws away), old comrade (draws ANDREW to him), we had many happy days together in the summer of our life. Now the autumn has come, now the winter is coming, I’m setting out on a cold, dark journey. Won’t you light a little flame in our old lamp of friendship to cheer me on my way? You’ll take my gift—you’ll take it, and make a home for her?
ANDR. (bursts out). You’ll break my heart with your kindness! I don’t deserve it! I was a half-bred, starving dog. You took me in, and, like the hound I am, I turned and bit the hand that fed me. Let me be! Let me be!
MICH. Rose, speak to him.
ROSE. Father, you are grieving Mr. Feversham.
ANDR. I’ll do whatever you tell me. But don’t forgive me.
MICH. Take him home, Rose. I parted you. Let me think I have restored you to each other.
(Joining them.)
ANDR. (to MICHAEL). I can’t say anything to-night. I never was good enough to black your shoes. I can’t thank you. I can’t speak. Good-night. Come, Rose!