Misalliance

the face you once knew so well? Tarleton Too much absorbed in the portrait to heed him. Funny that I can’t remember! Let this be a lesson to you, young man. I could go into court tomorrow and swear I never saw that face before in my life if it wasn’t for that brooch. Pointing to the photograph. Have you got that brooch, by the way? The man again resorts to his breast pocket. You seem to carry the whole family property in that pocket. The Man Producing a brooch. Here it is to prove my bona fides. Tarleton Pensively putting the photographs on the table and taking the brooch. I bought that brooch in Cheapside from a man with a yellow wig and a cast in his left eye. I’ve never set eyes on him from that day to this. And yet I remember that man; and I can’t remember your mother. The Man Monster! Without conscience! without even memory! You left her to her shame⁠— Tarleton Throwing the brooch on the table and rising pepperily. Come, come, young man! none of that. Respect the romance of your mother’s youth. Don’t you start throwing stones at her. I don’t recall her features just at this moment; but I’ve no doubt she was kind to me and we were happy together. If you have a word to say against her, take yourself out of my house and say it elsewhere. The Man What sort of a joker are you? Are you trying to put me in the wrong, when you have to answer to me for a crime that would make every honest man spit at you as you passed in the street if I were to make it known? Tarleton You read a good deal, don’t you? The Man What if I do? What has that to do with your infamy and my mother’s doom? Tarleton There, you see! Doom! That’s not good sense; but it’s literature. Now it happens that I’m a tremendous reader: always was. When I was your age I read books of that sort by the bushel: the Doom sort, you know. It’s odd, isn’t it, that you and I should be like one another in that respect? Can you account for it in any way? The Man No. What are you driving at? Tarleton Well, do you know who your father was? The Man I see what you mean now. You dare set up to be my father. Thank heaven I’ve not a drop of your vile blood in my veins. Tarleton Sitting down again with a shrug. Well, if you won’t be civil, there’s no pleasure in talking to you, is there? What do you want? Money? The Man How dare you insult me? Tarleton Well, what do you want? The Man Justice. Tarleton You’re quite sure that’s all? The Man It’s enough for me. Tarleton A modest sort of demand, isn’t it? Nobody ever had it since the world began, fortunately for themselves; but you must have it, must you? Well, you’ve come to the wrong shop for it: you’ll get no justice here: we don’t keep it. Human nature is what we stock. The Man Human nature! Debauchery! gluttony! selfishness! robbery of the poor! Is that what you call human nature? Tarleton No: that’s what you call it. Come, my lad! What’s the matter with you? You don’t look starved; and you’ve a decent suit of clothes. The Man Forty-two shillings. Tarleton They can do you a very decent suit for forty-two shillings. Have you paid for it? The Man Do you take me for a thief? And do you suppose I can get credit like you? Tarleton Then you were able to lay your hand on forty-two shillings. Judging from your conversational style, I should think you must spend at least a shilling a week on romantic literature. The Man Where would I get a shilling a week to spend on books when I can hardly keep myself decent? I get books at the Free Library. Tarleton Springing to his feet. What!!! The Man Recoiling before his vehemence. The Free Library. There’s no harm in that. Tarleton Ingrate! I supply you with free books; and the use you make of them is to persuade yourself that it’s a fine thing to shoot me. He throws himself doggedly back into his chair. I’ll never give another penny to a Free Library. The Man You’ll never give another penny to anything. This is the end: for you and me. Tarleton Pooh! Come, come, man! talk business. What’s wrong? Are you out of employment? The Man No. This is my Saturday afternoon. Don’t flatter yourself that I’m a loafer or a criminal. I’m a cashier; and I defy you to say that my cash has ever been a farthing wrong. I’ve a right to call you to account because my hands are clean. Tarleton Well, call away. What have I to account for? Had you a hard time with your mother? Why didn’t she ask me for money? The Man She’d have died first. Besides, who wanted your money? Do you suppose we lived in the gutter? My father mayn’t have been in as large a way as you; but he was better connected; and his shop was as respectable as yours. Tarleton I suppose your mother brought him a little capital. The Man I don’t know. What’s that got to do with you? Tarleton Well, you say she and I knew one another and parted. She must have had something off me then, you know. One doesn’t get out of these things for nothing. Hang it, young man: do you suppose I’ve no heart? Of course she had her due; and she found a husband with it, and set him up in business with it, and brought you up respectably; so what the devil have you to complain of? The Man Are women to be ruined with impunity? Tarleton I haven’t ruined any woman that I’m aware of. I’ve been the making of you and your mother. The Man Oh, I’m a fool to listen to you and argue with you. I