He's an M.A. But while he was a student he
got a place in an iron-cementer's business.
COMTESSE [now far out of her depths]. Iron-cementer?
DAVID. They scrape boilers.
COMTESSE. I see. The fun men have, Sybil!
DAVID [with some solemnity]. There have been millions made in
scraping boilers. They say, father, he went into business so as to be
able to pay off the L300.
ALICK [slily]. So I've heard.
COMTESSE. Aha--it was a loan?
[DAVID and ALICK are astride their great subject now.]
DAVID. No, a gift--of a sort--from some well-wishers. But they
wouldn't hear of his paying it off, father!
ALICK. Not them!
COMTESSE [restraining an impulse to think of other things]. That was
kind, charming.
ALICK [with a look at DAVID]. Yes. Well, my lady, he developed a
perfect genius for the iron-cementing.
DAVID. But his ambition wasn't satisfied. Soon he had public life in
his eye. As a heckler he was something fearsome; they had to seat him
on the platform for to keep him quiet. Next they had to let him into
the Chair. After that he did all the speaking; he cleared all roads
before him like a fire-engine; and when this vacancy occurred, you
could hardly say it did occur, so quickly did he step into it. My
lady, there are few more impressive sights in the world than a
Scotsman on the make.
COMTESSE. I can well believe it. And now he has said farewell to
boilers?
DAVID [impressively].
Pages:
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48