BALD: Why, yes, thank you, Mr. Mowle, but Mrs. Binder still has those attacks (shaking his head). Abdominal (continuing to shake his head). Gastric. Something cruel.
CAP: They do suffer cruel, as you say, do women, Mr. Binder (shaking his head too—but more slightly). This indigestion—ah!
BALD (more brightly): Not married yet, Mr. Mowle?
CAP (contentedly and rather stolidly): No, Mr. Binder. Nor not inclined to neither. (Draws a great breath.) I'm a single man, Mr. Binder, and intend so to adhere. (A pause to think.) That's what I call (a further pause to get the right phrase) "single blessedness." Yes, (another deep breath) I find life worth living, Mr. Binder.
BALD (with great cunning): That depends upon the liver. (Roars with laughter.)
CAP (laughing a good deal too, but not so much as BALD): Ar!
That was young Cobbler's joke in times gone by.
BALD (politely): Ever see young Cobbler now, Mr. Mowle?
CAP (with importance): Why yes, Mr. Binder; I met him at the Thersites' Lodge down Brixham way—only the other day. Wonderful brilliant he was … well, there … (his tone changes) he was sitting next to me—(thoughtfully)—as, might be here—(putting Harmsworth's paper down to represent Young Cobbler)—and here like, would be Lord Haltingtowres.
BALD (his manner suddenly becoming very serious): He's a fine man, he is! One of those men I respect.
CAP (with still greater seriousness): You may say that, Mr. Binder. No respecter of persons—talks to me or you or any of them just the same.