Why? If they're poor, what does it matter in a world of
chaos?
ANABEL. And aren't you an obstinate ass not to give them the bit
they want. It's mere stupid obstinacy.
GERALD. It may be. I call it policy.
ANABEL. Men always do call their obstinacy policy.
GERALD. Well, I don't care what happens. I wish things would come
to a head. I only fear they won't.
ANABEL. Aren't you rather wicked?--ASKING for strife?
GERALD. I hope I am. It's quite a relief to me to feel that I may
be wicked. I fear I'm not. I can see them all anticipating victory,
in their low-down fashion wanting to crow their low-down crowings.
I'm afraid I feel it's a righteous cause, to cut a lot of little
combs before I die.
ANABEL. But if they're right in what they want?
GERALD. In the right--in the right!--They're just greedy, incompetent,
stupid, gloating in a sense of the worst sort of power. They're like
vicious children, who would like to kill their parents so that they
could have the run of the larder. The rest is just cant.
ANABEL. If you're the parent in the case, I must say you flow over
with loving-kindness for them.
GERALD. I don't--I detest them. I only hope they will fight. If
they would, I'd have some respect for them. But you'll see what it
will be.
ANABEL. I wish I needn't, for it's very sickening.
GERALD. Sickening beyond expression.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96