.

AUCTIONEER. [Looking at HILLCRIST] For nine thousand five hundred?
[HILLCRIST shakes his head.] Once more. The Centry, Deepwater, for
nine thousand five hundred. Once--[Taps] Twice--[Taps] [He pauses
and looks again at HORNBLOWER and HILLCRIST] For the last time--at
nine thousand five hundred. [Taps] [With a look towards the
bidder] Mr. Smalley. Well! [With great satisfaction] That's
that! No more to-day, gen'lemen.

[The AUCTIONEER and SOLICITOR busy themselves. The room begins
to empty.]

MRS. H. Smalley? Smalley? Is that the Duke's agent? Jack!

HILLCRIST. [Coming out of a sort of coma, after the excitement he
has been going through] What! What!

JILL. Oh, Dodo! How splendidly you stuck it!

HILLCRIST. Phew! What a squeak! I was clean out of my depth. A
mercy the Duke chipped in again.

MRS. H. [Looking at ROLF and CHLOE, who are standing up as if about
to go] Take care; they can hear you. Find DAWKER, Jack.

[Below, the AUCTIONEER and SOLICITOR take up their papers, and
move out Left.]

[HILLCRIST stretches himself, standing up, as if to throw off
the strain. The door behind is opened, and HORNBLOWER
appears.]

HORNBLOWER. Ye ran me up a pretty price. Ye bid very pluckily,
Hillcrist. But ye didn't quite get my measure.

HILLCRIST. Oh! It was my nine thousand the Duke capped. Thank
God, the Centry's gone to a gentleman!

HORNBLOWER. The Duke? [He laughs] No, the Gentry's not gone to a
gentleman, nor to a fool. It's gone to me.

HILLCRIST. What!

HOUNBLOWER. I'm sorry for ye; ye're not fit to manage these things.
Well, it's a monstrous price, and I've had to pay it because of your
obstinacy. I shan't forget that when I come to build.

HILLCRIST. D'you mean to say that bid was for you?

HORNBLOWER. Of course I do. I told ye I was a bad man to be up
against. Perhaps ye'll believe me now.

HILLCRIST. A dastardly trick!

HORNBLOWER. [With venom] What did ye call it--a skin game?
Remember we're playin' a skin game, Hillcrist.

HILLCRIST. [Clenching his fists] If we were younger men----

HORNBLOWER. Ay! 'Twouldn't Look pretty for us to be at fisticuffs.
We'll leave the fightin' to the young ones. [He glances at ROLF and
JILL; suddenly throwing out his finger at ROLF] No makin' up to
that young woman! I've watched ye. And as for you, missy, you
leave my boy alone.

JILL. [With suppressed passion]