TRANTO.  Now why, Mrs. Culver?  I thought it was so clever.

MRS. CULVER.  It may be clever to advocate fried potatoes and chip potatoes and saute potatoes as a change from the everlasting boiled.  I daresay it’s what you call journalism.  But how can you fry potatoes without fat?

TRANTO.  Ah!  How?

MRS. CULVER.  And where are you to obtain fat? I can’t obtain fat.  I stand in queues for hours because my servants won’t—­it’s the latest form of democracy—­but I can’t obtain fat.  I think the nearest fat is at Stratford-on-Avon.

TRANTO.  Stand in queues!  Mrs. Culver, you make me feel very guilty, plunging in at a moment’s notice and demanding a whole dinner in a fatless world.  I shall eat nothing but dry bread.

MRS. CULVER.  We never serve bread at lunch or dinner unless it’s specially asked for.  But if soup, macaroni, eggs, and jelly will keep you alive till breakfast—­

HILDEGARDE.  But there’s beefsteak, mamma—­I’ve told Mr. Tranto.

MRS. CULVER.  Only a little, and that’s for your father.  Beefsteak’s the one thing that keeps off his neuralgia, Mr. Tranto. (With apologetic persuasiveness.) I’m sure you’ll understand.

TRANTO.  Dear lady, I’ve never had neuralgia in my life.  Macaroni, eggs, and jelly are my dream.  I’ve always wanted to feel like an invalid.

MRS. CULVER.  And how did you get on with your Medical Board this morning?

TRANTO.  How marvellous of you to remember that I had a Medical Board this morning!  I believe I’ve found out your secret, Mrs. Culver—­you’re undergoing a course of Pelman with those sixty generals and forty admirals.  Well, the Medical Board have given me a new complaint.  You’ll be sorry to hear that I’m deformed.

MRS. CULVER.  Not deformed!

TRANTO.  Yes.  It appears I’m flat-footed. (Extending his leg.) Have I ever told you that I had a dashing military career extending over four months, three of which I spent in hospital for a disease I hadn’t got?  Then I was discharged as unfit.  After a year they raked me in again.  Since then I’ve been boarded five times, and on the unimpeachable authority of various R.A.M.C.  Colonels I’ve been afflicted with valvular disease of the heart, incipient tuberculosis, rickets, varicose veins, diabetes—­practically everything, except spotted fever and leprosy.  And now flat feet are added to all the rest.  Even the Russian collapse and the transfer of the entire German army to the Western Front hasn’t raised me higher than C 3.

MRS. CULVER.  How annoying for you!  You might have risen to be a captain by this time.

HILDEGARDE (reflectively).  No doubt, in a home unit.  But if he’d gone to the Front he would still have been a second lieutenant.

MRS. CULVER.  My dear!

TRANTO.  Whereas in fact I’m still one of those able-bodied young shirkers in mufti that patriotic old gentlemen in clubs are always writing to my uncles’ papers about.