Eh? Come! you'll ask her, won't you?
OCTAVIUS. [with sad gaiety] At all events I promise you I shall never ask anyone else.
RAMSDEN.
Oh, you shan't need to.
She'll accept you, my boy—although [here he suddenly becomes very serious indeed] you have one great drawback.
OCTAVIUS. [anxiously] What drawback is that, Mr Ramsden?
I should rather say which of my many drawbacks?
RAMSDEN.
I'll tell you, Octavius. [He takes from the table a book bound in red cloth]. I have in my hand a copy of the most infamous, the most scandalous, the most mischievous, the most blackguardly book that ever escaped burning at the hands of the common hangman.
I have not read it: I would not soil my mind with such filth; but I have read what the papers say of it.
The title is quite enough for me. [He reads it].
The Revolutionist's Handbook and Pocket Companion by John Tanner, M.I.R.C., Member of the Idle Rich Class.
OCTAVIUS. [smiling] But Jack—
RAMSDEN. [testily] For goodness' sake, don't call him Jack under my roof [he throws the book violently down on the table, Then, somewhat relieved, he comes past the table to Octavius, and addresses him at close quarters with impressive gravity]. Now, Octavius, I know that my dead friend was right when he said you were a generous lad.
I know that this man was your schoolfellow, and that you feel bound to stand by him because there was a boyish friendship between you.
But I ask you to consider the altered circumstances.
You were treated as a son in my friend's house.
You lived there; and your friends could not be turned from the door.
This Tanner was in and out there on your account almost from his childhood.
He addresses Annie by her Christian name as freely as you do.
Well, while her father was alive, that was her father's business, not mine.
This man Tanner was only a boy to him: his opinions were something to be laughed at, like a man's hat on a child's head.
But now Tanner is a grown man and Annie a grown woman.
And her father is gone.
We don't as yet know the exact terms of his will; but he often talked it over with me; and I have no more doubt than I have that you're sitting there that the will appoints me Annie's trustee and guardian. [Forcibly] Now I tell you, once for all, I can't and I won't have Annie placed in such a position that she must, out of regard for you, suffer the intimacy of this fellow Tanner.
It's not fair: it's not right: it's not kind.
What are you going to do about it?
OCTAVIUS.
But Ann herself has told Jack that whatever his opinions are, he will always be welcome because he knew her dear father.
RAMSDEN. [out of patience] That girl's mad about her duty to her parents. [He starts off like a goaded ox in the direction of John Bright, in whose expression there is no sympathy for him. As he speaks, he fumes down to Herbert Spencer, who receives him still more coldly] Excuse me, Octavius; but there are limits to social toleration.
You know that I am not a bigoted or prejudiced man.
You know that I am plain Roebuck Ramsden when other men who have done less have got handles to their names, because I have stood for equality and liberty of conscience while they were truckling to the Church and to the aristocracy.
Whitefield and I lost chance after chance through our advanced opinions.
But I draw the line at Anarchism and Free Love and that sort of thing.
If I am to be Annie's guardian, she will have to learn that she has a duty to me.
I won't have it: I will not have it.
She must forbid John Tanner the house; and so must you.
The parlormaid returns.
OCTAVIUS.
But—
RAMSDEN. [calling his attention to the servant] Ssh! Well?
THE MAID.
Mr Tanner wishes to see you, sir.
RAMSDEN.
Mr Tanner!
OCTAVIUS.
Jack!
RAMSDEN.
How dare Mr Tanner call on me!
Say I cannot see him.