MOORE (SITTING). Now look 'ere. Mr. bloody Deacon Brodie, you see this 'ere chair of yours, don't you? Wot I ses to you is, here I am, I ses, and here I mean to stick. That's my motto. Who the devil are you to do the high and mighty? You make all you can out of us, don't you? and when one of your plants get cross, you order us out of the ken? Muck! That's wot I think of you. Muck! Don't you get coming the nob over me, Mr. Deacon Brodie, or I'll smash you.
BRODIE. You will?
MOORE. Ay will I. If I thundering well swing for it. And as for clearing out? Muck! Here I am, and here I stick. Clear out? You try it on. I'm a man, I am.
BRODIE. This is plain speaking.
MOORE. Plain? Wot about your father as can't walk? Wot about your fine-madam sister? Wot about the stone-jug, and the dock, and th
