t and jacket on, follows them; but though
her eyes are brighter than before, she is evidently a prey to
misgiving. She places herself with her back to her typewriting table,
with one hand on it to rest herself, passes the other across her
forehead as if she were a little tired and giddy. Marchbanks relapses
into shyness and edges away into the corner near the window, where
Morell's books are.)

MILL (exhilaratedly). Morell: I MUST congratulate you. (Grasping his
hand.) What a noble, splendid, inspired address you gave us! You
surpassed yourself.

BURGESS. So you did, James. It fair kep' me awake to the last word.
Didn't it, Miss Garnett?

PROSERPINE (worriedly). Oh, I wasn't minding you: I was trying to make
notes. (She takes out her note-book, and looks at her stenography,
which nearly makes her cry.)

MORELL. Did I go too fast, Pross?

PROSERPINE. Much too fast. You know I can't do more than a hundred
words a minute. (She relieves her feelings by throwing her note-book
angrily beside her machine, ready for use next morning.)

MORELL (soothingly). Oh, well, well, never mind, never mind, never
mind. Have you all had supper?

LEXY. Mr. Burgess has been kind enough to give us a really splendid
supper at the Belgrave.

BURGESS (with effusive magnanimity). Don't mention it, Mr. Mill.
(Modestly.) You're 'arty welcome to my little treat.

PROSERPINE. We had champagne! I never tasted it before. I feel quite
giddy.

MORELL (surprised). A champagne supper! That was very handsome. Was it
my eloquence that produced all this extravagance?

MILL (rhetorically). Your eloquence, and Mr. Burgess's goodness of
heart. (With a fresh burst of exhilaration.) And what a very fine
fellow the chairman is, Morell! He came to supper with us.

MORELL (with long drawn significance, looking at Burgess). O-o-o-h, the
chairman. NOW I understand.

(Burgess, covering a lively satisfaction in his diplomatic cunning with
a deprecatory cough, retires to the hearth. Lexy folds his arms and
leans against the cellaret in a high-spirited attitude. Candida comes
in with glasses, lemons, and a jug of hot water on a tray.)

CANDIDA. Who will have some lemonade? You know our rules: total
abstinence. (She puts the tray on the table, and takes up the lemon
squeezers, looking enquiringly round at them.)

MORELL. No use, dear. They've all had champagne. Pross has broken her
pledge.

CANDIDA (to Proserpine). You don't mean to say you've been drin