The Skin Game | Page 7

people are like
yourself, Jack. You always ought to make Dawker have things in black
and white.
HILLCRIST. I said quite distinctly: "Of course you won't want to
disturb the tenancies; there's a great shortage of cottages." Hornblower
told me as distinctly that he wouldn't. What more do you want?
Mrs. H. A man like that thinks of nothing but the short cut to his own
way. [Looking out of the window towards the rise] If he buys the
Centry and puts up chimneys, we simply couldn't stop here.
HILLCRIST. My father would turn in his grave.
MRS. H. It would have been more useful if he'd not dipped the estate,
and sold the Centry. This Hornblower hates us; he thinks we turn up
our noses at him.
HILLCRIST. As we do, Amy.
MRS. H. Who wouldn't? A man without traditions, who believes in
nothing but money and push.
HILLCRIST. Suppose he won't budge, can we do anything for the
Jackmans?
MRS. H. There are the two rooms Beaver used to have, over the

stables.
FELLOWS. Mr. Dawker, sir.
[DAWKERS is a short, square, rather red-faced terrier of a man, in
riding clothes and gaiters.]
HILLCRIST. Ah! Dawker, I've got gout again.
DAWKER. Very sorry, sir. How de do, ma'am?
HILLCRIST. Did you meet the Jackmans?
DAWKERS. Yeh.
[He hardly ever quite finishes a word, seeming to snap of their tails.]
HILLCRIST. Then you heard?
DAWKER. [Nodding] Smart man, Hornblower; never lets grass grow.
HILLCRIST. Smart?
DAWKER. [Grinning] Don't do to underrate your neighbours.
MRS. H. A cad--I call him.
DAWKER. That's it, ma'am-got all the advantage.
HILLCRIST. Heard anything about the Centry, Dawker?
DAWKER. Hornblower wants to buy.
HILLCRIST. Miss Mullins would never sell, would she?
DAWKER. She wants to.
HILLCRIST. The deuce she does!
DAWKER. He won't stick at the price either.
MRS. H. What's it worth, Dawker?
DAWKER. Depends on what you want it for.
MRS. H. He wants it for spite; we want it for sentiment.
DAWKER. [Grinning] Worth what you like to give, then; but he's a
rich man.
MRS. H. Intolerable!
DAWKER. [To HILLCRIST] Give me your figure, sir. I'll try the old
lady before he gets at her.
HILLCRIST. [Pondering] I don't want to buy, unless there's nothing
else for it. I should have to raise the money on the estate; it won't stand
much more. I can't believe the fellow would be such a barbarian.
Chimneys within three hundred yards, right in front of this house! It's a
nightmare.
MRS. H. You'd much better let Dawker make sure, Jack.
HILLCRIST. [Uncomfortable] Jackman says Hornblower's coming
round to see me. I shall put it to him.

DAWKER. Make him keener than ever. Better get in first.
HILLCRIST. Ape his methods!--Ugh! Confound this gout! [He gets
back to his chair with difficulty] Look here, Dawker, I wanted to see
you about gates----
FELLOWS. [Entering] Mr. Hornblower.
[HORNBLOWER enters-a man of medium, height, thoroughly
broadened, blown out, as it were, by success. He has thick, coarse, dark
hair, just grizzled, wry bushy eyebrow, a wide mouth. He wears quite
ordinary clothes, as if that department were in charge of someone who
knew about such, things. He has a small rose in his buttonhole, and
carries a Homburg hat, which one suspects will look too small on his
head.]
HORNBLOWER. Good morning! good morning! How are ye, Dawker?
Fine morning! Lovely weather!
[His voice has a curious blend in its tone of brass and oil, and an accent
not quite Scotch nor quite North country.]
Haven't seen ye for a long time, Hillcrist.
HILLCRIST. [Who has risen] Not since I sold you Longmeadow and
those cottages, I believe.
HORNBLOWER. Dear me, now! that's what I came about.
HILLCRIST. [Subsiding again into his chair] Forgive me! Won't you
sit down?
HORNBLOWER. [Not sitting] Have ye got gout? That's unfortunate. I
never get it. I've no disposition that way. Had no ancestors, you see.
Just me own drinkin' to answer for.
HILLCRIST. You're lucky.
HORNBLOWER. I wonder if Mrs. Hillcrist thinks that! Am I lucky to
have no past, ma'am? Just the future?
MRS. H. You're sure you have the future, Mr. Hornblower?
HORNBLOWER. [With a laugh] That's your aristocratic rapier thrust.
You aristocrats are very hard people underneath your manners. Ye love
to lay a body out. But I've got the future all right.
HILLCRIST. [Meaningly] I've had the Dackmans here, Mr.
Hornblower.
HORNBLOWER. Who are they--man with the little spitfire wife?
HILLCRIST. They're very excellent, good people, and they've been in
that cottage quietly thirty years.

HORNBLOWER. [Throwing out his forefinger--a favourite gesture]
Ah! ye've wanted me to stir ye up a bit. Deepwater needs a bit o' go put
into it. There's generally some go where I am. I daresay you wish
there'd been no "come." [He laughs].