Scene
VII
Grosvenor-square; before Lord Flumm’s house.
Enter Turnstile, from the house.
Turnstile
This is all very delightful; but what will they say at Shoreditch?—twice in one week absent from the House, and at two Tory parties.
Enter Griskin, hastily, heated; his hat in his left hand; a pocket-handkerchief in his right.
Griskin
Mr. Turnstile, I’m glad to find you; just called on you, as I came to this quarter to look after a customer—long way from the City—sorry not to hear from you.
Turnstile
Why, really, Mr. Griskin, I am very sorry; but I am not acquainted with the Commander-in-chief. And I must say that I should not know how to press for the contract, knowing that your nephew’s prices are thirty percent, at least, above the market.
Griskin
That’s being rather nice, I should say, Mr. Turnstile. My nephew is as good a lad as ever stood in shoe-leather; and has six good wotes in Shoreditch—and, as to myself, Mr. Turnstile, I must say that, after all I did at your election—and in such wery hot weather—I did not expect you’d be so wery particular about a small matter.—Sir, I wish you a good morning.
Turnstile
Bowing and looking after him. So this fellow, like the rest of them, thinks that I am to do his jobs, and to neglect my own. And this is your reformed Parliament.