(She shuffles away.)

DEARTH. Poor soul. I expect she has had a rough time, and that some
man is to blame for it--partly, at any rate. (Restless) That woman
rather affects me, Margaret; I don't know why. Didn't you like her
husky voice? (He goes on painting.) I say, Margaret, we lucky ones,
let's swear always to be kind to people who are down on their luck,
and then when we are kind let's be a little kinder.

MARGARET (gleefully). Yes, let's.

DEARTH. Margaret, always feel sorry for the failures, the ones who are
always failures--especially in my sort of calling. Wouldn't it be
lovely, to turn them on the thirty-ninth year of failure into
glittering successes?

MARGARET. Topping.

DEARTH. Topping.

MARGARET. Oh, topping. How could we do it, Dad?

DEARTH. By letter. 'To poor old Tom Broken Heart, Top Attic, Garret
Chambers, S.E.--'DEAR SIR,--His Majesty has been graciously pleased
to purchase your superb picture of Marlow Ferry.'

MARGARET. 'P.S.--I am sending the money in a sack so as you can hear
it chink.'