Constable: Mr. Jimson?
Gulley Jimson: No. That's my first cousin, once removed, an artist who's always getting into trouble with the police. He just went up the road. Shall I call him back?
Constable: Have you just sent a telephone message of a threatening character to Mr. Hickson of Portland Place?
Gulley Jimson: I only said I'd burn his house down and cut his liver out.
Constable: Now he doesn't want to prosecute, but if you go on making a nuissance of yourself, well, he's gonna have to take steps.
Gulley Jimson: Would he rather I cut his liver out without phoning?
Constable: Now, come now, Mr. Jimson. Put yourself in his place.
Gulley Jimson: I wish I could. It's a very nice place.
Gulley Jimson: It could happen to anyone, dear. All the greatest artists got their squares wrong. Numbers were invented by Arabs who hate art.
Gulley Jimson: Go and do something sensible, like shooting yourself! But don't be an artist!
Gulley Jimson: yes, yes, i am an artist. and you are a very sweet kid. now go and get me some spirits [kamēr groopy-puika tiešām skrien pakaļ šmigai, GJ nosper viņa veļļuku un aizbrauc prom] |
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