"Aunt's lodger, I assure you, will be thoroughly well damned if he takes any stock in Owen." "'E 'asn't seen Mr. Prothero," said Rose, "and you'll frighten Minny if you use such language." Tanqueray ignored the interruption. "Owen, you see, is dangerous. He regards the entire Stock Exchange as a bankrupt concern. The Stock Exchange resents the imputation and makes things dangerous for Owen. If a man will insist on belonging to all the centuries that have been, and all the centuries that will be, he's bound to have a bad time in his own. You can't have it both ways." "I know. He knows it. We'd rather have it this way. I oughtn't to talk as if he minded, as if it could touch him where he is. It's me it hurts, not him." "It hurts me, too, Kiddy. I can't stand it when I see the filthy curs rushing at him. They've got to be kicked into a corner. I'm prepared for them, this time." He rose and went to his desk and returned with an article in proof which he gave to her. "Just look through that and see if it's any good." It was his vindication of Owen Prothero. "Oh----" She drew in her breath. "How you _have_ fought for him." "I'm fighting for my own honour and glory, too." He drew her attention to a passage where he called upon Heaven to forbid that he should appear to apologize for so great a man. He was only concerned with explaining why Prothero was and would remain unacceptable to a generation of brokers; which was not so much a defence of Prothero as an indictment of his generation. She would see how he had rubbed it in.