HECTOR. And in heaven's name, what do you look like?
MANGAN. I look like the fellow that was too clever for all the
others, don't I? If that isn't a triumph of practical business,
what is?
HECTOR. Is this England, or is it a madhouse?
LADY UTTERWORD. Do you expect to save the country, Mr Mangan?
MANGAN. Well, who else will? Will your Mr Randall save it?
LADY UTTERWORD. Randall the rotter! Certainly not.
MANGAN. Will your brother-in-law save it with his moustache and
his fine talk?
HECTOR. Yes, if they will let me.
MANGAN [sneering]. Ah! Will they let you?
HECTOR. No. They prefer you.
MANGAN. Very well then, as you're in a world where I'm
appreciated and you're not, you'd best be civil to me, hadn't
you? Who else is there but me?
LADY UTTERWORD. There is Hastings. Get rid of your ridiculous
sham democracy; and give Hastings the necessary powers, and a
good supply of bamboo to bring the British native to his senses:
he will save the country with the greatest ease.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. It had better be lost. Any fool can govern with
a stick in his hand. I could govern that way. It is not God's
way. The man is a numskull.
LADY UTTERWORD. The man is worth all of you rolled into one. What
do you say, Miss Dunn?
ELLIE. I think my father would do very well if people did not put
upon him and cheat him and despise him because he is so good.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202