There is a touch of commonness about his voice,
but he is not uneducated.)
PERKINS. I'll tell Sir John you're here, but I don't say he'll see
you, mind.
STRANGER. Don't you worry about that. He'll see me right enough.
PERKINS. He's busy just now. Well---- (He looks at THE STRANGER
doubtfully.)
STRANGER (bitterly). I suppose you think I've got no business in a
gentleman's house. Is that it?
PERKINS. Well, I didn't say so, did I? Maybe you're a constituent?
Being in the 'Ouse of Commons, we get some pretty queer ones at times.
All sorts, as you might say. . . . P'raps you're a deputation?
STRANGER (violently). What the hell's it got to do with you who I am.
You go and tell your master I'm here--that's all you've got to do.
See?
PERKINS (unruffled). Easy, now, easy. You 'aven't even told me your
name yet. Is it the Shah of Persia or Mr. Bottomley?
STRANGER. The less said about names the better. You say, "Somebody
from Lambeth"--_he'll_ know what I mean.
PERKINS (humorously). Ah, I beg your pardon--the Archbishop of
Canterbury. I didn't recognise your Grace.
STRANGER (angrily). It's people like you who make one sick of the
world. Parasites--servile flunkeys, bolstering up an effete
aristocracy.
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