30
HAMILTON
Reynolds.
Well, that's the only way I get a living, Mr. Giles—keeping my ears open.
[Picking up his hat from beside him.
Giles.
Well, keep your mouth shut.
[Sits r. of table l. and chews a toothpick.
Reynolds.
[Rising and coming to c. slowly, laughing.] Pretty hard job to shake the people's faith in Alexander Hamilton, ain't it?
Giles.
Mind your own damn business.
Reynolds.
[Laughs and crosses to chair back of table l.; puts his hat down on table.] You've tried to prove him incompetent; you've tried to prove him dishonest; but there's one thing you haven't tried, Mr. Giles.
[Back of table.
Giles.
[Turning away from him.] Go to the devil.
Reynolds.
And it's strange you haven't thought of it. How about a woman?
[Giles is silent a moment. Rolls toothpick around in his mouth, spits it out, replaces it with another, and then looks at Reynolds.
Giles.
You're a little gentleman, ain't yer, Reynolds?
