"
"Then there is nothing more to be said. I will be perfectly frank
with you, Mr. Bevan. I like you . . ."
"The feeling is quite mutual."
"But I don't want you as a son-in-law. And, dammit," exploded Lord
Marshmoreton, "I won't have you as a son-in-law! Good God! do you
think that you can harry and assault my son Percy in the heart of
Piccadilly and generally make yourself a damned nuisance and then
settle down here without an invitation at my very gates and expect
to be welcomed into the bosom of the family? If I were a young
man . . ."
"I thought we had agreed that you were a young man."
"Don't interrupt me!"
"I only said . . ."
"I heard what you said. Flattery!"
"Nothing of the kind. Truth."
Lord Marshmoreton melted. He smiled. "Young idiot!"
"We agree there all right."
Lord Marshmoreton hesitated. Then with a rush he unbosomed himself,
and made his own position on the matter clear.
"I know what you'll be saying to yourself the moment my back is
turned. You'll be calling me a stage heavy father and an old snob
and a number of other things. Don't interrupt me, dammit! You will,
I tell you! And you'll be wrong.
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