ye're the best of the fossils round here; at least, I think ye can
do me the most harm socially. Come now!

[He holds out his hand again.]

HILLCRIST. Not if you'd bought the Centry ten times over. Your
ways are not mine, and I'll have nothing to do with you.

HORNBLOWER. [Very angry] Really! Is that so? Very well. Now
ye're goin' to learn something, an' it's time ye did. D'ye realise
that I'm 'very nearly round ye? [He draws a circle slowly in the
air] I'm at Uphill, the works are here, here's Longmeadow, here's
the Centry that I've just bought, there's only the Common left to
give ye touch with the world. Now between you and the Common
there's the high road.

I come out on the high road here to your north, and I shall come out
on it there to your west. When I've got me new works up on the
Centry, I shall be makin' a trolley track between the works up to
the road at both ends, so any goods will be running right round ye.
How'll ye like that for a country place?

[For answer HILLCRIST, who is angry beyond the power of speech,
walks, forgetting to use his stick, up to the French window.
While he stands there, with his back to HORNBLOWER, the door L.
is flung open, and Jim enters, preceding CHARLES, his wife
CHLOE, and ROLF. CHARLES is a goodish-looking, moustached
young man of about twenty-eight, with a white rim to the collar
of his waistcoat, and spats. He has his hand behind CHLOE'S
back, as if to prevent her turning tail. She is rather a