Calway.  Ah!  How d’you do?

Wellwyn.  Your opinion will be invaluable, Professor.

Ann.  Tea, Professor Calway?

     [They have assembled round the tea table.]

Calway.  Thank you; no tea; milk.

Wellwyn.  Rum?

     [He pours rum into CALWAY’s milk.]

Calway.  A little-thanks! [Turning to Ann.] You were going to show me some one you’re trying to rescue, or something, I think.

Ann.  Oh!  Yes.  He’ll be here directly—­simply perfect rotter.

Calway. [Smiling.] Really!  Ah!  I think you said he was a congenital?

Wellwyn. [With great interest.] What!

Ann. [Low.] Daddy! [To Calway.] Yes; I—­I think that’s what you call him.

Calway.  Not old?

Ann.  No; and quite healthy—­a vagabond.

Calway. [Sipping.] I see!  Yes.  Is it, do you think chronic unemployment with a vagrant tendency?  Or would it be nearer the mark to say:  Vagrancy——­

Wellwyn.  Pure!  Oh! pure!  Professor.  Awfully human.

Calway. [With a smile of knowledge.] Quite!  And—­er——­

Ann. [Breaking in.] Before he comes, there’s another——­

Bertley. [Blandly.] Yes, when you came in, we were discussing what should be done with a man who drinks rum—­[Calway pauses in the act of drinking]—­that doesn’t belong to him.

Calway.  Really!  Dipsomaniac?

Bertley.  Well—­perhaps you could tell us—­drink certainly changing thine to mine.  The Professor could see him, Wellwyn?

Ann. [Rising.] Yes, do come and look at him, Professor Calway. 
He’s in there.

     [She points towards the model’s room.  Calway smiles
     deprecatingly.]

Ann.  No, really; we needn’t open the door.  You can see him through the glass.  He’s more than half——­

Calway.  Well, I hardly——­

Ann.  Oh!  Do!  Come on, Professor Calway!  We must know what to do with him. [Calway rises.] You can stand on a chair.  It’s all science.

[She draws Calway to the model’s room, which is lighted by a glass panel in the top of the high door.  Canon Bertley also rises and stands watching.  Wellwyn hovers, torn between respect for science and dislike of espionage.]

Ann. [Drawing up a chair.] Come on!

Calway.  Do you seriously wish me to?

Ann.  Rather!  It’s quite safe; he can’t see you.

Calway.  But he might come out.

     [Ann puts her back against the door.  Calway mounts the chair
     dubiously, and raises his head cautiously, bending it more and
     more downwards.]