I will
come and see you to-morrow, father. We can talk over anything you
like. Let me help you on with your cloak, father.
LORD CAVERSHAM. No, sir; I have called this evening for a definite
purpose, and I am going to see it through at all costs to my health
or yours. Put down my cloak, sir.
LORD GORING. Certainly, father. But let us go into another room.
[Rings bell.] There is a dreadful draught here. [Enter PHIPPS.]
Phipps, is there a good fire in the smoking-room?
PHIPPS. Yes, my lord.
LORD GORING. Come in there, father. Your sneezes are quite
heartrending.
LORD CAVERSHAM. Well, sir, I suppose I have a right to sneeze when I
choose?
LORD GORING. [Apologetically.] Quite so, father. I was merely
expressing sympathy.
LORD CAVERSHAM. Oh, damn sympathy. There is a great deal too much
of that sort of thing going on nowadays.
LORD GORING. I quite agree with you, father. If there was less
sympathy in the world there would be less trouble in the world.
LORD CAVERSHAM. [Going towards the smoking-room.] That is a
paradox, sir. I hate paradoxes.
LORD GORING. So do I, father. Everybody one meets is a paradox
nowadays. It is a great bore. It makes society so obvious.
LORD CAVERSHAM. [Turning round, and looking at his son beneath his
bushy eyebrows.] Do you always really understand what you say, sir?
LORD GORING. [After some hesitation.
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