There is Norman blood in it, sir; and
Norman blood is not a recommendation to a waiter.
McCOMAS. Well, well: "True hearts are more than coronets, and simple
faith than Norman blood."
WAITER. That depends a good deal on one's station in life, sir. If
you were a waiter, sir, you'd find that simple faith would leave you
just as short as Norman blood. I find it best to spell myself B.
double-O.N., and to keep my wits pretty sharp about me. But I'm taking
up your time, sir. You'll excuse me, sir: your own fault for being so
affable, sir. I'll tell the ladies you're here, sir. (He goes out into
the garden through the window.)
McCOMAS. Crampton: I can depend on you, can't I?
CRAMPTON. Yes, yes. I'll be quiet. I'll be patient. I'll do my
best.
McCOMAS. Remember: I've not given you away. I've told them it was
all their fault.
CRAMPTON. You told me that it was all my fault.
McCOMAS. I told you the truth.
CRAMPTON (plaintively). If they will only be fair to me!
McCOMAS. My dear Crampton, they won't be fair to you: it's not to be
expected from them at their age. If you're going to make impossible
conditions of this kind, we may as well go back home at once.
CRAMPTON. But surely I have a right---
McCOMAS (intolerantly). You won't get your rights. Now, once for
all, Crampton, did your promises of good behavior only mean that you
won't complain if there's nothing to complain of? Because, if so---
(He moves as if to go.
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