PEACEY. [_putting them both down resolutely._] But I refuse to be ignored. I must consider my whole position. I hope I may not be tempted to make use of the power I possess. But if I am driven to proceed to extremities . . EDWARD. [_breaking in upon this bunch of tags._] My dear Peacey, don't talk nonsense . . you couldn't proceed to an extremity to save your life. You've taken this money irresponsibly for all these years. You'll find you're no longer capable even of such a responsible act as tripping up your neighbour. _This does completely upset the gentle blackmailer. He loses one grievance in another._ PEACEY. Really, Mr. Edward, I am a considerably older man than you, and I think that whatever our positions-- EDWARD. Don't let us argue, Peacey. You're quite at liberty to do whatever you think worth your while. PEACEY. It isn't that, sir. But these personalities-- EDWARD. Oh . . I apologise. Don't forget the letters. PEACEY. I will not, sir. _He takes them with great dignity and is leaving the room._ PEACEY. Here's Mr. Hugh waiting. EDWARD. To see me? Ask him in. PEACEY. Come in, Mr. Hugh, please. HUGH _comes in_, PEACEY _holding the door for him with a frigid politeness of which he is quite oblivious. At this final slight_ PEACEY _goes out in dudgeon_. EDWARD. How are you, Hugh? HUGH. Good Lord! _And he throws himself into the chair by the fire._ EDWARD _quite used to this sort of thing, goes quietly on with his work, adding encouragingly after a moment_ . . EDWARD. How's Beatrice? HUGH. She's very busy. _He studies his boots with the gloomiest expression. And indeed, they are very dirty and his turned up trousers are muddy at the edge. They are dark trousers and well cut, but he wears with them a loose coat and waistcoat of a peculiar light brown check. Add to this the roughest of overcoats and a very soft hat. Add also the fact that he doesn't shave well or regularly and that his hair wants cutting, and_ HUGH'S _appearance this morning is described. As he is quite capable of sitting silently by the fire for a whole morning_ EDWARD _asks him at last_ . . EDWARD. What d'you want? HUGH. [_with vehemence._] I want a machine gun planted in Regent Street . . and one in the Haymarket . . and one in Leicester Square and one in the Strand . . and a dozen in the City. An earthquake would be simpler. Or why not a nice clean tidal wave? It's no good preaching and patching up any longer, Edward. We must begin afresh. Don't you feel, even in your calmer moments, that this whole country is simply hideous? The other nations must look after themselves. I'm patriotic . . I only ask that we should be destroyed. EDWARD. It has been promised.