Crawshaw. I most certainly shouldn't.
Richard. But if he died and left it to you, then you would?
Crawshaw [blandly]. Ah, I thought you were leading up to that. That, of course, is entirely different.
Richard. Why?
Crawshaw. Well—ah—wouldn't you take ten thousand pounds if it were left to you by a stranger?
Richard. I daresay I should. But I should like to know why it would seem different.
Crawshaw [professionally]. Ha—hum! Well—in the first place, when a man is dead he wants his money no longer. You can therefore be certain that you are not taking anything from him which he cannot spare. And in the next place, it is the man's dying wish that you should have the money. To refuse would be to refuse the dead. To accept becomes almost a sacred duty.
Richard. It really comes to this, doesn't it? You won't take it from him when he's alive, because if you did, you couldn't decently refuse him a little gratitude; but you know that it doesn't matter a damn to him what happens to his money after he's dead, and therefore you can take it without feeling any gratitude at all.
Crawshaw. No, I shouldn't put it like that.
Richard [smiling]. I'm sure you wouldn't, Robert.