You let
them come, my lad. They'll leave a cleaner place behind.
WILLIE. I'm not much good at talking, and I always seem to say
wrong things when I do talk. I'm sorry if my well-meant words
don't suit your taste, but I thought you came here for advice.
HOBSON. I didn't come to you, you jumped-up cock-a-hooping--
(_Rising_.)
MAGGIE. That 'ull do, father. (_Pushes him down_.) My
husband's _trying_ to help you.
HOBSON (_glares impatiently for a time, then meekly says_).
Yes, Maggie.
MAGGIE. Now about this accident of yours.
HOBSON. Yes, Maggie.
MAGGIE. It's the publicity that you're afraid of most.
HOBSON. It's being dragged into a court of law at all, me that's
voted right all through my life and been a sound supporter of the
Queen and Constitution.
MAGGIE. Then we must try to keep it out of court. (_Moves away
to_ L. C.)
HOBSON (_rising and moving to_ C.). If there are lawyers in
Heaven, Maggie, which I doubt, they may keep cases out of courts
there. On earth a lawyer's job's to squeeze a man and squeeze him
where his squirming's seen the most--in court.
MAGGIE. I've heard of cases being settled out of court, in
private.
HOBSON. In private? Yes, I dare say, and all the worse for that.
It's done amongst themselves in lawyers' offices behind closed
doors so no one can see they're squeezing twice as hard in
private as they'd dare to do in public.
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