That's what I call business.
JESSE COLLINGS (_warmly_). But you've always been honourable.
CHAMBERLAIN. So has he. Don't be sentimental, Collings! But some men
manage in public life to give you a certain view of their character: so
that you count on it. And then, on occasion, they play another--and get
wonderful results. If I'd had that gift, I should have used it and done
better. He has used it, and he has done better. I don't whine about it.
But I'd rather, Collings (I suppose I'm prejudiced), I'd rather he hadn't
asked himself here--just now: not just now.
(_There is a pause, and Collings feels that he must say something; but
finding nothing of any value to say, he merely commentates with a
query_.)
JESSE COLLINGS. What has "just now" to do with it?
CHAMBERLAIN. "Just now," dear Collings, only means the next few months or
so--possibly a year. That's all. I had rather he'd waited, and then just
sent a wreath with the right sort of inscription on it. He could have done
that charmingly too. And I haven't got wreaths here for _him_, for I
don't think that even a posy of these would really interest him.
(_And with a weary gesture he points to the orchids, as though they were
things of which, not impossibly, "posies" might be made_.)
JESSE COLLINGS (_a little perplexed by this introduction of wreaths and
flowers into political affairs_). What does really interest him? He's
so interesting himself.
CHAMBERLAIN.
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