y dressed in a black
merino skirt and a blouse, rather pert and quick of speech, and not
very civil in her manner, but sensitive and affectionate. She is
clattering away busily at her machine whilst Morell opens the last of
his morning's letters. He realizes its contents with a comic groan of
despair.

PROSERPINE. Another lecture?

MORELL. Yes. The Hoxton Freedom Group want me to address them on Sunday
morning (great emphasis on "Sunday," this being the unreasonable part
of the business). What are they?

PROSERPINE. Communist Anarchists, I think.

MORELL. Just like Anarchists not to know that they can't have a parson
on Sunday! Tell them to come to church if they want to hear me: it will
do them good. Say I can only come on Mondays and Thursdays. Have you
the diary there?

PROSERPINE (taking up the diary). Yes.

MORELL. Have I any lecture on for next Monday?

PROSERPINE (referring to diary). Tower Hamlets Radical Club.

MORELL. Well, Thursday then?

PROSERPINE. English Land Restoration League.

MORELL. What next?

PROSERPINE. Guild of St. Matthew on Monday. Independent Labor Party,
Greenwich Branch, on Thursday. Monday, Social-Democratic Federation,
Mile End Branch. Thursday, first Confirmation class-- (Impatiently).
Oh, I'd better tell them you can't come. They're only half a dozen
ignorant and conceited costermongers without five shillings between
them.

MORELL (amused). Ah; but you see they're near relatives of mine, Miss
Garnett.

PROSERPINE (staring at him). Relatives of YOURS!

MORELL. Yes: we have the same father--in Heaven.

PROSERPINE (relieved). Oh, is that all?

MORELL (with a sadness which is a luxury to a man whose voice expresses
it so finely). Ah, you don't believe it. Everybody says it: nobody
believes it--nobody. (Briskly, getting back to business.) Well, well!
Come, Miss Proserpine, can't you find a date for the costers? What
about the 25th?: that was vacant the day before yesterday.

PROSERPINE (referring to diary). Engaged--the Fabian Society.

MORELL. Bother the Fabian Society! Is the 28th gone too?

PROSERPINE. City dinner. You're invited to dine with the Founder's
Company.

MORELL. That'll do; I'll go to the Hoxton Group of Freedom instead.
(She enters the engagement in silence, with implacable disparagement of
the Hoxton Anarchists in every line of her face. Morell bursts open the
cover of a copy of The Church Reformer, which has come by post, and
glances through Mr. S