One
by one they all follow to the window. One by one go out on to
the terrace, till MORE is left alone. He turns to the bay
window. The music is swelling, coming nearer. MORE leaves the
window--his face distorted by the strafe of his emotions. He
paces the room, taking, in some sort, the rhythm of the march.]

[Slowly the music dies away in the distance to a drum-tap and the
tramp of a company. MORE stops at the table, covering his eyes
with his hands.]

[The DEPUTATION troop back across the terrace, and come in at the
French windows. Their faces and manners have quite changed.
KATHERINE follows them as far as the window.]

HOME. [In a strange, almost threatening voice] It won't do, Mr.
More. Give us your word, to hold your peace!

SHELDER. Come! More.

WACE. Yes, indeed--indeed!

BANNING. We must have it.

MORE. [Without lifting his head] I--I----

The drum-tap of a regiment marching is heard.

BANNING. Can you hear that go by, man--when your country's just been
struck?

Now comes the scale and mutter of a following crowd.

MORE. I give you----

Then, sharp and clear above all other sounds, the words: "Give
the beggars hell, boys!" "Wipe your feet on their dirty
country!" "Don't leave 'em a gory acre!" And a burst of hoarse
cheering.

MORE. [Flinging up his head] That's reality! By Heaven! No!

KATHERINE. Oh!

SHELDER. In that case, we'll go.

BANNING. You mean it? You lose us, then!

[MORE bows.]

HOME. Good riddance! [Venomously--his eyes darting between MORE and
KATHERINE] Go and stump the country! Find out what they think of
you! You'll pardon me!

One by one, without a word, only BANNING looking back, they pass
out into the hall. MORE sits down at the table before the pile
of newspapers. KATHERINE, in the window, never moves. OLIVE
comes along the terrace to her mother.

OLIVE. They were nice ones! Such a lot of dirty people following,
and some quite clean, Mummy. [Conscious from her mother's face that
something is very wrong, she looks at her father, and then steals up
to his side] Uncle Hubert's gone, Daddy; and Auntie Helen's crying.
And--look at Mummy!

[MORE raises his head and looks.]

OLIVE. Do be on our side! Do!

She rubs her cheek against his. Feeling that he does not rub
his cheek against hers, OLIVE stan