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The Plays of W. E. Henley and R. L. Stevenson

Act 3 — SCENE III

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Hunt, Moore

Hunt. Half a tick, Badger. You’re a man of parts, you are; you’re solid, you’re a true-born Englishman; you ain’t a Jerry-go-Nimble like him. Do you know what your pal the Deacon’s worth to you? Fifty golden Georges and a free pardon. No questions asked, and no receipts demanded. What do you say? Is it a deal?

Moore (as to himself). Muck. (He goes out, R.)

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