you mean?

GERALD (bitterly). Do you want me to fall on, your neck, and say take
her and be happy?

BOB. You never loved her.

GERALD. That's a lie, and anyhow we won't discuss it. She's going to
marry you, and that's an end of it.

BOB (very eagerly). She _is_ going to?

GERALD (sharply). Don't you know it?

BOB (mumbling). Yes, but she might--Ah, you couldn't charm her away from
me this time.

GERALD (with an effort). I don't know what you mean by "_this_ time." I
think we'd better leave Pamela out of it altogether. She's waiting for
you outside. Last time I offered to shake hands with you, you had some
fancied grievance against me, and you wouldn't; now if there's any
grievance between us, it's on _my_ side. (Holding out his hand)
Good-bye, Bob, and--quite honestly--good luck.

BOB (ignoring the hand). Magnanimous Gerald!

(GERALD looks at him in surprise for a moment. Then he shrugs his
shoulders, turns round, and goes back to the mantelpiece, and takes a
cigarette from the box there.)

GERALD. I'm tired of you, Bob. If you don't want me, I don't want you.
(He sits down in a chair and lights his cigarette.)

BOB. And now I suppose you're thoroughly pleased with yourself, and
quite happy.

GERALD (looking at him in absolute wonder). Happy? You fool! (Something
in BOB'S face surprises him, and he gets up and says) Why do you
suddenly hate me like this?

BOB (with a bitter laugh). Suddenly!

GERALD (almost frightened). Bob!

BOB (letting the jealousy that has been pent up for years come out at
last). You're surprised! Surprised! You would be. You've never stopped
to think what other people are thinking; you take it for granted that
they all love you, and that's all you care about. Do you think I liked
playing second fiddle to you all my life? Do you think I've never had
any ambitions of my own? I suppose you thought I was quite happy being
one of the crowd of admirers round you, all saying, "Oh, look at Gerald,
isn't he wonderful?"

GERALD (astounded). Bob, I had no idea--I never dreamt--

BOB. They thought something of me when I was young. When I first went
to school they thought something of me. I daresay even _you_ thought
something of me then; I could come back in the holidays and tell you
what school was like, and what a lot they thought of me. They didn't
think much of me when _you_ came; you soon put a stop to that. I was
just young Farringdon's brother then, and when we came home together