But of a sudden his aspect changed; he
started up, and spoke with a snarling emphasis.
'I've had just about enough. Look here, clear out, all of you! There's the
door--go!'
Mr. Daffy moved towards him.
'Is that how you speak to your father, Charles?' he exclaimed indignantly.
'Yes, it is. Take your hook with the others; I'm sick of your tommy-rot!'
'Then listen to me before I go,' cried Mr. Daffy, his short and awkward
figure straining in every muscle for the dignity of righteous wrath. 'I
don't know whether you are more a fool or a knave. Perhaps you really think
that there's as much to be said for your way of earning a living as for any
other. I hope you do, for it's a cruel thing to suppose that my son has
turned out a shameless scoundrel. Let me tell you, then, this business of
yours is one that moves every honest and sensible man to anger and disgust.
It matters nothing whether you keep the rules of the blackguard game, or
whether you cheat; the difference between bookmaker and blackleg is so
small that it isn't worth talking about. You live by the plunder of people
who are foolish and vicious enough to fall into your clutches. You're an
enemy of society--that's the plain truth of it; as much an enemy of society
as the forger or the burglar.
Pages:
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353