ast at eight sharp is the
master's rule, just as it used to be before you went away to the war.

PHILIP. Before I went away to the war I did a lot of silly things. Don't
drag them up now. (More curtly) Two eggs, and if there's a ham bring
that along too. (He turns away.)

MARY (doubtfully, as she prepares to go). Well, I'm sure I don't know
what Mrs. Higgins will say. [Exit MARY.]

(As she goes out she makes way for AUNT EMILY to come in, a kind-hearted
mid-Victorian lady who has never had any desire for the vote.)

EMILY. There you are, Philip! Good-morning, dear. Did you sleep well?

PHILIP. Rather; splendidly, thanks, Aunt Emily. How are you? (He kisses
her.)

EMILY. And did you have a good breakfast? Naughty boy to be late for it.
I always thought they had to get up so early in the Army.

PHILIP. They do. That's why they're so late when they get out of the
Army.

EMILY: Dear me! I should have thought a habit of four years would have
stayed with you.

PHILIP. Every morning for four years, as I've shot out of bed, I've said
to myself, "Wait! A time will come." (Smiling) That doesn't really give
a habit a chance.

EMILY. Well, I daresay you wanted your sleep out. I was so afraid that
a really cosy bed would keep you awake after all those years in the
trenches.

PHILIP. Well, one isn't in the trenches all the time. And one gets
leave--if one's an officer.

EMILY.(reproachfully). You didn't spend much of it with _us_, Philip.

PHILIP (taking her hands). I know; but you did understand, didn't you,
dear?

EMILY. We're not very gay, and I know you must have wanted gaiety for
the little time you had. But I think your Uncle James felt it. After
all, dear, you've lived with us for some years, and he _is_ your
guardian.

PHILIP. I know. _You've_ been a darling to me always, Aunt Emily. But
(awkwardly) Uncle James and I--

EMILY. Of course, he is a _little_ difficult to get on with. I'm more
used to him. But I'm sure he really is very fond of you, Philip.

PHILIP. H'm! I always used to be frightened of him.... I suppose he's
just the same. He seemed just the same last night--and he still has
breakfast at eight o'clock. Been making pots of money, I suppose?

EMILY. He never tells me exactly, but he did speak once about the
absurdity of the excess-profits tax. You see, jam is a thing the Army
wants.

PHILIP. It certainly gets it.

EMILY. It was so nice for him, because it made him feel he was doing his