Hillcrist. Jill-your language!

Jill.  Don’t slime out of it, Dodo.  I say, mother ought to call on the Hornblowers. [No answer.] Well?

Hillcrist. My dear, I always let people have the last word.  It makes them—­feel funny.  Ugh!  My foot![Enter fellows, Left.] Fellows, send into the village and get another bottle of this stuff.

Jill.  I’ll go, darling.

     [She blow him a kiss, and goes out at the window.]

Hillcrist. And tell cook I’ve got to go on slops.  This foot’s worse.

Fellows. [Sympathetic] Indeed, sir.

Hillcrist. My third go this year, Fellows.

Fellows.  Very annoying, sir.

Hillcrist. Ye-es.  Ever had it?

Fellows.  I fancy I have had a twinge, sir.

Hillcrist. [Brightening] Have you?  Where?

Fellows.  In my cork wrist, sir.

Hillcrist. Your what?

Fellows.  The wrist I draw corks with.

Hillcrist. [With a cackle] You’d have had more than a twinge if you’d lived with my father.  H’m!

Fellows.  Excuse me, sir—­Vichy water corks, in my experience, are worse than any wine.

Hillcrist. [Ironically] Ah!  The country’s not what it was, is it,
Fellows?

Fellows.  Getting very new, sir.

Hillcrist. [Feelingly] You’re right.  Has Dawker come?

Fellows.  Not yet, sir.  The Jackmans would like to see you, sir.

Hillcrist. What about?

Fellows.  I don’t know, sir.

Hillcrist. Well, show them in.

Fellows. [Going] Yes, sir.

[Hillcrist turns his swivel chair round.  The Jackmans come in.  He, a big fellow about fifty, in a labourer’s dress, with eyes which have more in then than his tongue can express; she, a little woman with a worn face, a bright, quick glance, and a tongue to match.]

Hillcrist. Good morning, Mrs. Jackman!  Morning, Jackman!  Haven’t seen you for a long time.  What can I do?

     [He draws in foot, and breath, with a sharp hiss.]

Hillcrist. [In a down-hearted voice] We’ve had notice to quit, sir.

Hillcrist. [With emphasis] What!

Jackman.  Got to be out this week.

Mrs. J. Yes, sir, indeed.

Hillcrist. Well, but when I sold Longmeadow and the cottages, it was on the express understanding that there was to be no disturbance of tenancies: 

Mrs. J. Yes, sir; but we’ve all got to go.  Mrs.  ’Arvey, and the Drews, an’ us, and there isn’t another cottage to be had anywhere in Deepwater.

Hillcrist. I know; I want one for my cowman.  This won’t do at all.  Where do you get it from?