o, sir, it is not becoming language for a clergyman. I
used the wrong word. I should have said damn your impudence: that's
what St. Paul, or any honest priest would have said to you. Do you
think I have forgotten that tender of yours for the contract to supply
clothing to the workhouse?

BURGESS (in a paroxysm of public spirit). I acted in the interest of
the ratepayers, James. It was the lowest tender: you can't deny that.

MORELL. Yes, the lowest, because you paid worse wages than any other
employer--starvation wages--aye, worse than starvation wages--to the
women who made the clothing. Your wages would have driven them to the
streets to keep body and soul together. (Getting angrier and angrier.)
Those women were my parishioners. I shamed the Guardians out of
accepting your tender: I shamed the ratepayers out of letting them do
it: I shamed everybody but you. (Boiling over.) How dare you, sir, come
here and offer to forgive me, and talk about your daughter, and--

BURGESS. Easy, James, easy, easy. Don't git hinto a fluster about
nothink. I've howned I was wrong.

MORELL (fuming about). Have you? I didn't hear you.

BURGESS. Of course I did. I hown it now. Come: I harsk your pardon for
the letter I wrote you. Is that enough?

MORELL (snapping his fingers). That's nothing. Have you raised the
wages?

BURGESS (triumphantly). Yes.

MORELL (stopping dead). What!

BURGESS (unctuously). I've turned a moddle hemployer. I don't hemploy
no women now: they're all sacked; and the work is done by machinery.
Not a man 'as less than sixpence a hour; and the skilled 'ands gits the
Trade Union rate. (Proudly.) What 'ave you to say to me now?

MORELL (overwhelmed). Is it possible! Well, there's more joy in heaven
over one sinner that repenteth-- (Going to Burgess with an explosion of
apologetic cordiality.) My dear Burgess, I most heartily beg your
pardon for my hard thoughts of you. (Grasps his hand.) And now, don't
you feel the better for the change? Come, confess, you're happier. You
look happier.

BURGESS (ruefully). Well, p'raps I do. I s'pose I must, since you
notice it. At all events, I git my contrax asseppit (accepted) by the
County Council. (Savagely.) They dussent'ave nothink to do with me
unless I paid fair wages--curse 'em for a parcel o' meddlin' fools!

MORELL (dropping his hand, utterly discouraged). So that was why you
raised the wages! (He sits down moodily.)

BURGESS (severely, in spreading, mounting