Where are you going?
Etchingham.
[Insolently.] Get out of my way, you damned bounder.
[George Winter looks at him for a moment and steps aside.
George Winter.
[With a grim smile.] It is plain that you don’t think there’s anything more to be got out of me.
Etchingham.
[With a wave of the hand.] I wish you a pleasant time at Portland, gentlemen.
George Winter.