RICHARD (waving him dorm again). No, no, Robert; I've finished. I
just took the other side--and I got carried away. I ought to have
been at the Bar.
CRAWSHAW. You take such extraordinary views of things. You must
look facts in the face, Richard. This is a modern world, and we are
modern people living in it. Take the matter-of-fact view. You may
like or dislike the name of--ah--Wurzel-Flummery, but you can't get
away from the fact that fifty thousand pounds is not to be sneezed
at.
RICHARD (wistfully). I don't know why people shouldn't sneeze at
money sometimes. I should like to start a society for sneezing at
fifty thousand pounds. We'd have to begin in a small way, of course;
we'd begin by sneezing at five pounds--and work up. The trouble is
that we're all inoculated in our cradles against that kind of cold.
CRAWSHAW (pleasantly). You will have your little joke. But you know
as well as I do that it is only a joke. There can be no serious
reason why I should not take this money. And I--ah--gather that you
don't think it will affect my career?
RICHARD (carelessly). Not a bit. It'll help it. It'll get you into
all the comic papers.
[MARGARET comes in at this moment, to the relief of CRAWSHAW, who
is not quite certain if he is being flattered or insulted again.]
MARGARET. Well, have you told him?
RICHARD (making way for her on the sofa).
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