Press.  Might I say a quarter of a million-lifted in two seconds and a half-hundred thousand to the second.  It brings it home, you know.

Lord W. No, no; dash it!  No!

Press. [Disappointed] I see—­not draw attention to your property in the present excited state of public feeling?  Well, suppose we approach it from the viewpoint of the Anti-Sweating dinner.  I have the list of guests—­very weighty!

Lord W. Taken some lifting-wouldn’t they?

Press. [Seriously] May I say that you designed the dinner to soften the tension, at this crisis?  You saw that case, I suppose, this morning, of the woman dying of starvation in Bethnal Green?

Lord W. [Desperately] Yes-yes!  I’ve been horribly affected.  I always knew this slump would come after the war, sooner or later.

Press. [Writing] “. . . had predicted slump.”

Lord W. You see, I’ve been an Anti-Sweating man for years, and I thought if only we could come together now . . . .

Press. [Nodding] I see—­I see!  Get Society interested in the Sweated, through the dinner.  I have the menu here. [He produces it.]

Lord W. Good God, man—­more than that!  I want to show the people that we stand side by side with them, as we did in the trenches.  The whole thing’s too jolly awful.  I lie awake over it.

     [He walks up and down.]

Press. [Scribbling] One moment, please.  I’ll just get that down—­ “Too jolly awful—­lies awake over it.  Was wearing a white waistcoat with pearl buttons.” [At a sign of resentment from his victim.] I want the human touch, Lord William—­it’s everything in my paper.  What do you say about this attempt to bomb you?

Lord W. Well, in a way I think it’s d—–­d natural

Press. [Scribbling] “Lord William thought it d—–­d natural.”

Lord W. [Overhearing] No, no; don’t put that down.  What I mean is, I should like to get hold of those fellows that are singing the Marseillaise about the streets—­fellows that have been in the war—­ real sports they are, you know—­thorough good chaps at bottom—­and say to them:  “Have a feeling heart, boys; put yourself in my position.”  I don’t believe a bit they’d want to bomb me then.

     [He walks up and down.]

Press. [Scribbling and muttering] “The idea, of brotherhood—­” D’you mind my saying that?  Word brotherhood—­always effective—­always——­

     [He writes.]

Lord E. [Bewildered] “Brotherhood!” Well, it’s pure accident that I’m here and they’re there.  All the same, I can’t pretend to be starving.  Can’t go out into Hyde Park and stand on a tub, can I?  But if I could only show them what I feel—­they’re such good chaps—­ poor devils.

Press.  I quite appreciate! [He writes] “Camel and needle’s eye.”  You were at Eton and Oxford?  Your constituency I know.  Clubs?  But I can get all that.  Is it your view that Christianity is on the up-grade, Lord William?