"Well, it would never have done if the old man had got to know of it. Good heavens, Tilly! How can you live on with that old brute?"
"Maybe I shan't much longer," said Tilly, looking down at her rolling-pin.
Richard stared at her for a moment—"I'm glad to hear it. But the others—oh, my dear girl, this is damnable!"
Tilly sighed.
"The law ought to suppress such men—it ought to be a criminal offence to revert to type—the primordial gorilla."
"But fäather's a clever man—Albert always used to say so."
"Yes, in a cunning, brutish sort of way—like a gorilla when he's set his heart on a particular cocoanut. Boarzell's his cocoanut, and he's done some smart things to get it—and in one way at least he's above the gorilla, for he can enslave other people of superior intelligence to sweat under his orders for what they care nothing about."
"We're all very unlucky," said Tilly, "to have been born his children. But one by one we're gitting free. There'll soon be only Pete and Jemmy and Caro left."
"And I hope to God they'll have the wit to follow the rest of us. I'd like to see that old slave-driver left quite alone. Heavens! I could have strangled him yesterday—I should have, if I hadn't had this to look forward to."
"Where are you going to stay in London?"