Does it ever occur to you, Uncle James, that
there are about a hundred thousand people in England who own
revolvers, who are quite accustomed to them and--who have nobody to
practise on now?
JAMES. No, sir, it certainly doesn't.
PHILIP (thoughtfully). I wonder if it will make any difference. You
know, one gets so used to potting at people. It's rather difficult
to realize suddenly that one oughtn't to.
JAMES (getting up). I don't know what the object of this tomfoolery
is, if it has one. But you understand that I expect you to come to
the office with me to-morrow at nine o'clock. Kindly see that
you're punctual. (He turns to go away.)
PHILIP (softly). Uncle James.
JAMES (over his shoulder). I have no more--
PHILIP (in his parade voice). Damn it, sir! stand to attention when
you talk to an officer! (JAMES instinctively turns round and
stiffens himself.) That's better; you can sit down if you like. (He
motions JAMES to his chair with the revolver.)
JAMES (going nervously to his chair). What does this bluff mean?
PHILIP. It isn't bluff, it's quite serious. (Pointing the revolver
at his uncle) Do sit down.
JAMES (sitting donor). Threats, eh?
PHILIP. Persuasion.
JAMES. At the point of the revolver? You settle your arguments by
force? Good heavens, sir! this is just the very thing that we were
fighting to put down.
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