I was, too, for many years. The
negress redeemed me.
MANGAN [feebly]. This is queer. I ought to walk out of this
house.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Why?
MANGAN. Well, many men would be offended by your style of
talking.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Nonsense! It's the other sort of talking that
makes quarrels. Nobody ever quarrels with me.
A gentleman, whose first-rate tailoring and frictionless manners
proclaim the wellbred West Ender, comes in from the hall. He has
an engaging air of being young and unmarried, but on close
inspection is found to be at least over forty.
THE GENTLEMAN. Excuse my intruding in this fashion, but there is
no knocker on the door and the bell does not seem to ring.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Why should there be a knocker? Why should the
bell ring? The door is open.
THE GENTLEMAN. Precisely. So I ventured to come in.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. Quite right. I will see about a room for you
[he makes for the door].
THE GENTLEMAN [stopping him]. But I'm afraid you don't know who I
am.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. DO you suppose that at my age I make
distinctions between one fellow creature and another? [He goes
out. Mangan and the newcomer stare at one another].
MANGAN. Strange character, Captain Shotover, sir.
THE GENTLEMAN. Very.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER [shouting outside].
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