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You usually forgive a fellow who shoots himself.
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I don't.
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I won't forgive him for not making a will,
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for calling in Ruggles,
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for not talking to me in the club the night before he died.
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- That was stupidity. - I called in Ruggles, though.
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I don't forgive you either. The whole damn lot of you.
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Oh, keep your shirt on!
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You must take enough to be comfortable.
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Groby will come to you anyway, if you don't get killed.
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I don't want it.
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And I loathe your buttered-toast, mutton-chopped comfort