KEITH. What! I tell you no jury would convict; and if they did, no judge would hang. A ghoul who can rob a dead body, ought to be in prison. He did worse than you.
LARRY. It won't do, Keith. I must see it out.
KEITH. Don't be a fool!
LARRY. I've still got some kind of honour. If I clear out before I know, I shall have none—nor peace. Take them, Keith, or I'll put them in the fire.
KEITH. [Taking back the notes; bitterly] I suppose I may ask you not to be entirely oblivious of our name. Or is that unworthy of your honour?
LARRY. [Hanging his head] I'm awfully sorry, Keith; awfully sorry, old man.
KEITH. [sternly] You owe it to me—to our name—to our dead mother —to do nothing anyway till we see what happens.
LARRY. I know. I'll do nothing without you, Keith.
KEITH. [Taking up his hat] Can I trust you? [He stares hard at his brother.]
LARRY. You can trust me.